#but he’s the smartest boi ever okay have i made that clear

[metagalacticx]

if liam dunbar isn’t the most relatable character to you in teen wolf then we will never truly understand each other

#liam dunbar #teen wolf #he’s small and angry and soft and a little stupid he loves his friends he’s very fucking squeamish his face does so #many things when he’s experiencing emotion #he always looks like he’d rather be at home #and he’s also the smartest boi ever to live he’s so smart and intuitive #he’s a loser also #don’t fight me on that i’m right. #he’s best friends with the best friend anyone could ask for (sorry scott) #he somehow got hayden to love him??? despite being himself?? #again he’s the smartest boi alive did you hear me the first time #he’s so bad at lying so so bad at lying #he’s Going Through It at all times #he makes very poor ill-advised decisions #like he’s so bad at choosing what to do #but he’s the smartest boi ever okay have i made that clear #he has very little sense of self-preservation #he seems to think the only way out EVER is ‘through’ like bro pls tone it down #anyway liam dunbar you will always be famous

[thatgirlstrawberry]

Study Break

Feb, Request-6

In which Y/N asks Spencer’s help with studying and they get a little carried away

Warnings: smut, semi-public sex (library), Sub!spencer, soft/nice dom!reader, handjob(m rec), fingering(f rec), shy!spencer, praise, finger sucking, both reader and Spencer are over 18 years old!!!! He doesn’t ever say he’s a virgin but you can defo tell so virgin!spencer

Spencer could stare at her all day.

She was so pretty with her pencil between her teeth. The white jumper she had pulled over her black tank top fell off of her shoulder, showing more skin than Spencer could handle.

“So, existentialism is rooted in the philosophical idea that humans have free choice, and because of that free choice, we can create purpose and meaning in our lives. Existential theory suggests that we have a choice in who we desire to be.” Y/N read from the text book. She sighed and groaned, leaning back in her chair.

Spencer stared at her smooth skin that glowed under the light of the secluded section on the campus library.

She opened one of her eyes. “Need somethin’ Spence?” She asked, her voice sweet. Spencer swallowed and shook his head. “We’ll thanks for agreeing to help me study.” She sat up. “You’re like the smartest guy here.”

“Y-you’re w-Welcome.” He said quietly, clearing his throat, looking away from her.

She looked at him, trying to get him to make eye contact with her. “Why won’t you look at me?” She asked with a small, innocently seductive smile on her face.

He gulped again and glanced at her thighs that showed from her skirt. “I- you uh… you’re really pretty.”

Y/N tilted her head. “Aw that’s sweet, Spence.” She smiled. “So, I make you nervous?” She asked, her fingers dancing on his knee. “That why you won’t look at me?”

Spencer bit his lip and nodded a little, glancing at her hand on his knee. He looked up and stared at the lazy smirk she held on her lips.

“You’re pretty too, did you know that?” She asked in a hushed tone. His eyes were still on her lips as he shook his head.

Her hand reached up and grabbed his chin, lifting his head so his eyes were on hers again. Her other hand was still sliding up his thigh. “Is this okay? I’ll stop if you want.”

He shook his head, his heartbeat picking up. “I… I don’t want you to stop.”

She smiled and leaned forward, kissing his lips softly as her hand slid over his crotch area. He tended and kissed her back shyly.

She pulled away from him and stared at his red face. “You’re a good kisser.” She nodded, taking her hand off of his face. “You ever kissed anybody before now?”

He nodded. “A… long time ago.” He nodded.

Y/N jutted her bottom lip. “Has anybody ever…touched you?” She asked.

Spencer shrugged. “Touched me?”

She smiled at him. “You know… made you feel real good.” He shook his head now understanding what she was talking about. “Why don’t we take a study break, huh?”

He bit his lip and nodded.

“I can make you feel real good if you want.” She asked, her shoulders raising a little as she leaned forward to kiss his neck. He bit his lip and glanced around.

They were in the back part of the library, a place where no one really went.

He nodded again as Y/N’s lips kissed his neck. “Tell me you want me to make you feel good, Spence.” She whispered, gently biting his ear.

“I w-want you make me feel good, Y/N.” He shuddered as her teeth grazed the skin on his neck.

She sat back in her chair and slowly lifted one foot up, setting it on the empty space on Spencer’s chair. Her skirt rode up, almost completely showing her panties and Spencer diverted his eyes.

“Oh, Spence. You can look if you’d like.” She nodded, scooting closer to him, her knee bending causing more of the skirt to flip up.

He gulped as he looked down at her shiny smooth legs before trailing up to her white panties.

She leaned forward again to press her lips against his as her fingers played with the zipper on his slacks. “I’ve never met a boy who dresses as nicely as you, Spencer.” She whispered in between kisses. “Never met a boy who looks so cute in glasses either.” She smirked against his mouth.

She finally pulled the zipper down and Spencer’s body froze a little. “You gotta be quiet for me, Spence. We are in a library after all.”

She kissed him again as she reached into his pants and palmed him lightly. His chest rose and fell faster and his breaths were beginning to turn audible.

Y/N felt his already hard length under her hand. She bit Spencer’s lip before sliding her tongue into his mouth. She hummed at the tease of his minty fresh and pulled away still palming him through his underwear.

“You need more baby?” She asked, seeing his mouth fall open a bit. He nodded. “You give and you get.” She told him, grabbing his hand and guiding it underneath her skirt. “Do you know what I want you to do?” She asked.

Spencer shook his head. He truly didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He didn’t even think he comprehended the words correctly because he was too distracted by the fact that he was touching her and she was wet.

“I want you to move rub me. Make me feel good.” She breathed kissing him slowly. Spencer’s hesitantly began to rub hr clit over her panties, afraid he would do it wrong. Her hand moved a little faster against his hard on. “Is it okay if I touch you under the boxers?” She asked, kissing his jaw.

“Y-yes.” He whispered. “And c-can I… t-touch you under your Um… panties?” He asked shyly. He was close just thinking about how good her pretty hand would look wrapped around his cock.

“Of course you can, baby.” She smiled. Her hand dipped below his waistband and she took his cock out. He hissed and shakily moved her underwear to the side.

His cold fingers made contact with her clit and she let out a moan, stifled by his shoulder. She bit down on it and started to moved her hand up and down around his dick. “You have the prettiest dick I’ve ever seen.” She nodded.

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut and kept his lips clamped shut as he felt her hand move faster. His fingers circled her clit a little faster and she moaned, lifting her head off of his shoulder and looking at him. “You can put them in if you want to, baby. I would love to feel your fingers.”

“I- i don’t know how.” He said, a little embarrassed but quickly letting the feeling was away as her thumb ran over the tip of his cock, spreading.

“It’s really easy.” She nodded, kissing him. “All you gotta do is push them in and out. It feels really good.” She smiled. She used her other hand that wasn’t pumping his dick to bend three of his fingers down, leaving the pointer and middle out. Her mouth dropped open as she guided them down to her entrance.

“Go ahead, baby. Put your fingers in me.” She instructed.

She gasped quite loudly when he did as she told him to. “L-like this?”

“Yeah, baby just like that, fuck—“

He started to thrust them in and out as her hand moved faster around his length. He bit his lip trying to hold in his loud moans.

“You’re doing so good for me.” She moaned quietly. “Fuck, baby you’re a natural.” She kissed his lips. “You’re gonna make me come,” She smiled as her hand worked faster.

“M-me too. I’m gonna c—“ He was cut off when she gasped and he couldn’t control it anymore. He came all over her hand just as she came all over his.

She looks up at him and then down at his dick. “You’re so sexy, Spence.” She smiled.

“I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to I just couldn’t h-hold it—“ She interrupted him by pulling his fingers out of her and putting them in her mouth, sucking her juices off of them. He tilted his head and his mouth dropped open again.

“What, you want a taste?”

He hummed and nodded.

“You’re gonna have to wait for next time.”

——————————

I—

Baby Spencer is such a sub. Like bro whimpers, bro begs—

Anyway! Thanks for the request!! I love ya to the moon and back!!

Also more or the sick surprise series is gonna come out! I’m so glad y’all liked that one :)))

Feel free to request anything you’d like!

#spencer reid #spencer fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid x reader #spencer x oc #criminal minds #spencer x reader #crimimal minds #spencer x you

[letters2won]

GOOD 4 U!

03; Bewitched

Your legs bounces up and down as the realization hits you.

You’re not a regretful person. You don’t regret accidentally taking a raccoon home instead of your beloved dog or how you showed a Jacob Elordi edit in front of your English class when you meant to present your presentation on “The Outsiders”.

But fake dating? not your smartest idea…

You have to be crazy for suggesting it. You have to be even crazier to agree to it. But what do you expect from a down bad admirer and a girl who wishes to move on?

The adored cat-like boy sitting across from you, felt his hands get sweaty. He knows you’re here to lay out some ground rules, but this was basically a date in his eyes!

You two sat in awkward silence, unsure on how to start the conversation. “Can’t believe your ex hates my guts… I'm just a silly little guy!” he joked out and you let a giggle slip out.

After that small joke he made, you guys were able to relax and have a smooth conversation. Jungwon even managed to started a debate on how cats were better than dogs.

“You’re literally betraying your own dog right now!” you said through fits of giggles. He was laughing alongside you as he ate the shared cake you guys got.

Soon after you two were full off of sweets and had calmed down, deciding it was best to start the rules as you see the sun setting.

“How should we go about this..?” he began, trying to hide his excitement.

You pondered for a minute before responding, “Rule number one! Don’t fall in love!”

Jungwon's smile falters a little before he proceeds to roll his eyes, “Seriously? Am I not your type?” he teased.

“Maybe if you were Choso..” you seriously considered and he glared at you.

“Of course you’re a Jujutsu Kaisen fan.. it all makes sense now.”

“HEY?!”

You huffed and then continued, “Oh another one! Rule number two, we hold hands and give each cheek kisses to make it believable!”

Jungwon's eyes widened. He only ever imagined giving you small pecks of kisses, he can’t believe his manifestations are coming true right now. You on the other hand can’t believe you really came up with that. Feeling embarrassed, you moved on rather quickly.

“Oh! I got one! Rule number three, only our close friends will know the truth.”

“Do we have to let them in on our plans..” he mumbled.

“Well yea! I suck at lying, I even got a whole medal at home for being the worst liar in school!” which you stated a little too proudly. He should’ve questioned that but he didn’t, instead he gave you a love sick smile and sighed dreamily, “You’re so talented…”

“Rule number four, We go on dates every friday or saturday!”

Jungwon added on, “We should also always go to each events..” and you weighed the pros and cons of that. For a second, you almost forgot that this was your student council president that was going along with everything that you were saying.

He plays such an important role for the school yet here you are dragging him into your little petty revenge plan on your ex without an incentive.

“Jungwon, what do you want to benefit from this? I feel kind of selfish for only thinking about my side of the plan..”

He let out a hum before giving you his famous dimpled smile which has you bewitched. “I want to spend more time with you in all of this.”

There it is again, that funny feeling. Something about Jungwon is making your heart do somersaults and cartwheels. You’re still confused about what's happening and tried to push it aside. You never felt like this with your ex so why now?

You cleared your throat after realizing you were staring at him with a dumbfounded look for a good moment, “O-oh okay! Easy peasy!”

He let out a breathy laugh as you tried acting nonchalant, shifting in your seat feeling your face get hot. “Moving on! For the last rule…hm.” You two started thinking hard, almost felt like your thinking caps were going to explode any second now.

You gasped and gave him a wide smile, “ Rule number five, every Thursday you watch the new Jujutsu Kaisen episode with me.” He gave you a deadpanned look.

“I’m not watching Jujutsu Kaisen with you.”

“Please! None of my friends wants to watch or hear my thoughts and since you’re my soon to be boyfriend you have to tune in to my rant sessions about them!” you rambled on, giving him those expecting wide eyes.

Jungwon was gone. He had officially lost it. Soon to be boyfriend? Yeah, he’s agreeing with everything you're saying from now on.

“I’ll do anything you ask me from now on queen!”

Oh boy… he is down bad.

PREV ✩ MASTERLIST ✩ NEXT

╰┈➤ this feels kind of rushed… i hope you guys enjoyed </3

SYNOPSIS in which you’re DEFINITELY not upset that your ex moved on really easily (spoiler alert: you are!). Yang Jungwon, the student council president is glad your ex moved on because it’s time for him to shoot his shot (just not in the way he wanted.. a win is a win in his book!)

TAGLIST < open > @firstclassjaylee @sincerelyrki @w0nslvr @poollabug @mrchweeee @nanuer @jwonistic @nyfwyeonjun @jiamini

#enhypen #smau #enhypen heeseung #enhypen sunghoon #yang jungwon #aespa winter #enha smau #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #enhypen sunoo #enhypen niki #enhypen jungwon #jungwon smau #the boyz sunwoo #soul p1harmony #huh yunjin #aespa #jungwon x reader #kpop smau #enhypen smau #enha #enha x reader

[semicolonsspace]

!VampireOC x !Nerdy Stiles Stilinski

This is the most toe-curling, filthiest, wtfest shit I've EVER written- I LOVE IT!!! Read at your own risk babes! (please request only if you want)

Tw: Minors DNI (18+), Nerd! Stiles, Mention of Masturbation, Teasing, Cute names(Biscuit, sweetpea, sweet boy, songbird), begging, Mommy Kink, Praise Kink, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Mention of toys, Handjob, excessive amount of whimpers/Dacryphilia, Overstimulation, Orgasm Denial, Creampie.

Nova Bella Queens. A wealthy famous vampire that everyone knew, but they didn't know of her being a vampire. Instead, she had a reputation for being one of the smartest people in school, also being a goth, which means she consistently declined to help people do their work, only if she didn't like them. Like Brad, she didn't like Brad. Except when it came to the nerds that genuinely showed that they wanted higher grades. That led her to Stiles Stilinski. She never had talked to him, but boy was her eyes always finding him in a crowd. She had every class with him so she had more of the universe on her side but she never did. Not until today.... but we'll get to that in a bit.

She caught him staring at her in every class. After she first caught him- She waved at him, winked at him, brushed by him to tease him. That simple action drove him insane, causing him to run to the bathroom to remove the desperate feeling. She thought he was the most perfect human of them all. He was so nervous near her, his heartbeat consistently racing when she caught him staring.

Nova struts to the library, the direction she smelled her favorite human. It was their free period and she'd usually walk around but today she wanted to find Stiles. She found him sitting at an empty table, scribbling away on a paper for class. Nova smiles when she sees him. He has a highlighter on his pouted lips, his eyebrows still furrowed in concentration.

"Can I sit with you?" Nova asks, sitting down next to him before he can answer. He stiffens when she smells her perfume, knowing it is his biggest crush. Nova takes the highlighter from his lips, "It would help to answer if you don't have something in your mouth," Nova teases.

This could not be happening to him right now. One... his crush, the most beautiful person in the world, was sitting by him. Two, she was talking to him. Three, she was teasing him!

Stiles clears his throat, "Uh, of course, you can -I mean- you already are, but that's fine." Stiles cuts himself off with a groan. Nova laughs at his nervousness, her fingers now twirling the highlight with her fingers.

"It's okay, Biscuit; I'm not going to bite- Unless you want me to," Nova jokes. Nova was nervous as well, her hands feeling a bit clammy.

Now his chest was tight, his heart beating as fast as it ever went before. The name Biscuit causes him to hyperventilate. The simple but cute name is what he needed to hear, what he fantasized about for years. Not exactly what he fantasised but now? He was going to use that for later.

Nova frowns at him hyperventilating. This was the reason why she procrastinated talking to him for so long. Her Vampiric self always made people so nervous. Thus making her panic.

Instead, she gets out her book and begins reading it for class. A thing to calm her down, like she does to sleep at times. She was a fairly quick reader. She has the ability to read 357 words per minute, thanks to her vampire speed. Her finger still twirled his yellow highlighter, waiting for the shy boy to ask for it back.

Stiles shakes his head and pulls his fractured concentration back onto his work. He was a bit behind and now that Nova was here? He was sure that he was going to be even more behind. He pulls himself out of his thoughts once more and searches for his highlighter. He looks under his backpack and other places like his lap. That was before he found it in her small hands, twirling around on her ring-covered fingers.

Nova giggles teasingly, she places it in her bra, eyes locked into his wide ones. "Say please and I will consider giving it to you," Nova says in a hushed tone. His eyes trained on his highlighter that was stuck between her cleavage. He gulps heavily, and an audible sound is heard.

Stiles clears his dry throat, "Please..." He asks, sounding more like a beg. Nova tilts her head, her finger tapping her chin, acting like she was giving it a thought.

Nova leans toward him so close her minted breath moves his hair. "Please, what?" Nova starts. Now her lips brushed against his, almost pressing against his. His eyes widened more in a panic, staring right into her alluring eyes. "I know how you feel about me... How you ran to the bathroom to rub one out because I bumped into you- Go ahead, call me what you moaned in that stall," Nova finishes.

Stiles takes a second to recover his staggered breath. How did she know that? Was she a werewolf like his best friend Scott? Either way, he didn't care, the need to call her the name overrode his brain. "Please, Mommy..." Stiles begs.

In a flash, Nova takes the highlighter out of her bra and hands it to him. He shakily turns to his work, highlighting something slowly. She goes back to reading her book like nothing happened. He watches her, not being able to fully focus on his work. For now, she was looking at someone else's work, admiring Nova like she was like a sculpture created by the gods. So sinful but yet so divine. If only he knew what she was, and how impure she could be.

Nova knows that he is watching her. She knew how much control she had over him already. One of the small perks to being a Seduction Vampire.

This goes on for a bit before Nova scolds him. "Do your work, Biscuit. You don't want to get more behind now do you?" Nova asks, her angelic voice resembling a mother. Stiles shook his head quickly, as he didn't want to get too far behind like she had said.

After another bit of silence, Stiles finally finishes his paper. Nova smiles, praising him innocently. To him it wasn't innocent, the praise sprinting straight to his now tightening jeans. 'Why did he think it was a good idea to wear these jeans today' he internally cursed.

"Nova? Why'd you all of a sudden sit with me?" Stiles croaks without thinking. Nova hands him a water bottle from her bag, demanding him to drink up. Nova once again leans toward him, her body taunting him with how close she was. "I want to get you all flustered up... Wanna take care of you.... a pretty boy like you deserves it," Nova admits, whispering into his left ear. The confession drags a whimper out of his parted lips. "That being said, come with me to my house- My Father is out on a business trip so I'm all alone," Nova mentions. He nods staring into her vampiric eyes that glowed. She was going quicker than she wanted to but she needed to hang out with him. She craved to fluster him, she was addicted to his little blush... Addicted to hearing his blood rush to his groin- his heart and his whole body.

Stiles takes a drink of the water once again, gulping it down quickly. "Why would he leave you alone?" He asks with an innocent look on his face. Nova shushed him, she didn't want to get into it. Right then the bell rings. She gathers his stuff for him, neatly placing it into his bag. She guides him to her motorcycle outside. She places her helmet on his head, securely strapping it to his head. She sits down on her bike in a hurry, wanting nothing more for his hands to hold her. Stiles doesn't hesitate, sitting down and wrapping her arms around her waist.

She kicks off to drive, the wind now flowing through her wavy brunette hair. He could smell her shampoo, smelling like pure honey.

Once she gets home she drives the bike through the garage, double-checking if the doors are locked. She guides him quickly up the gothic stairs, Stiles turning to study the beautiful mansion in awe.

"C'mon, biscuit," Nova giggles. He obeys and continues to follow her. As he walked his eyes followed something else, her ravishing hips that swayed as she walked too elegantly up the spiral stairs.

They head to her room, Stiles looking around in awe. Her bedroom was huge, with a walk-in closet and a bathroom for herself. Her bed had black curtains matching the dark walls of the rest of the house. Her bedroom was a little different from the rest of the house, having a bit more color inside. She had a few pride flags, Led strips along with a Star tarot card tapestry that was pinned to the ceiling.

"You- have beautiful taste," Stiles compliments. It sounded better in his head.

Nova thanked him before grabbing his backpack and placing it in her closet. She then plops her plush body on her bed, patting the left side of the bed so he could lie down.

Stiles gulps and musters up a few bits of courage that he had and walks to lie down next to her. He hesitantly does so, not before wiping himself from dirt that he thought he had. He felt strange in an amazing house such as hers. He felt so strange to even be in her house- her room, lying next to a divine creature such as her. He'd only dreamed of it numerous times and almost everytime it lead the same way.

Nova brings him out of his thoughts saying something he didn't register. "Wha- What?"

Nova repeats herself, "Would you like to go swimming? We have a pool."

"Isn't it a bit cold outside?" Stiles asks innocently, subtly declining her tempting offer. It was fall, and tomorrow was fall break as well.

Nova laughed that sounded like a rich mother. "We have an inside pool, Biscuit. I can get you some swim trunks if you want to," Nova asks as she drags her body along the bed to get some. She comes back swiftly with two pairs of shorts, one ombre grey, and then a blood-red one. "These are my Sibling's trunks but they're working right now, I'm sure you heard of them," Nova laughs.

Stiles nods and grabs them, examining them. "Is that the one that is rumored to be genderfluid?" Stiles asks. He could recall hearing whispers of her sibling coming out as gender fluid on Instagram.

Nova nodded smiling brightly; She was proud of him for knowing the information about her family. "I only have one sibling, Kai; They're genderfluid and use They/them pronouns," Nova laughs, explaining her sibling's rumors. "The rumors are true."

"Where can I go to change?" Stiles asks changing the subject. She points to her bathroom and he blushes hard. "R-right." He could feel his ears become warm after the awkward interaction. As she walks to the bathroom, Nova walks to her closet, grabbing her bathing suit. She strips herself from her clothes and puts it on.

While she was putting on her shirt Stiles walked out of the bathroom and paused at the sight. Nova was in her closet, her bottoms were already on, and her back facing him. She had to tear his eyes off her plump ass as she puts on the top and attempts to tie the lace around her neck. He situated his trunks and walked toward her. He moves quickly, carefully grabbing the strings from her shaking hands. She holds her hair up as she does so.

"Thanks, Biscuit," Nova says as she turns around and faces him. She kisses his nose causing it to wrinkle.

"That tickled," Stiles pouted with a laugh. Nova joins his laugh with a small giggle and wraps her arm around his shoulder.

"C'mon, let us go swim, sweet pea," Nova says walking. Stiles walked as well, as she had ahold of his shoulders. He didn't argue, willing to go anywhere for her.

Then they headed downstairs and left from behind the stairs to a long hallway. Passing a few doors they stop at a door and head in. The room consisted of a rectangular pool with diving boards and a hot tub. The ceiling was better than the pool. It was pitch black with small lights that looked like stars. Sometimes the family would go night swimming but wanted to swim inside so they had this constructed. It was Nova's idea, but let us be real she got it from the Harry Potter film.

"Wow," Stiles whispers in awe. His eyes were wide, scanning the room. He was more focused on the hot tub than anything. He was excited. He wanted to consume its warmth while sitting with Nova. Maybe while Nova sits in his lap while they talk about meaningless things.

Nova points to a door next to the hot tub at the end of the pool. "That's a sauna if you want to use it, I kinda hate using it so only Kai uses it-" Nova begins explaining, mentioning her best friend who just happens to be her sibling.

Nova steps into the pool slowly, holding out a hand for Stiles. He takes it and she continues her speech. "Father is only here a bit. If he is here he usually has new arm candy, which means temporary food." Nova ends her rant.

Stiles couldn't help but feel bad for Nova. Her father sounded Horrible- like her father didn't care. "He sounds lovely," Stiles jokes.

Nova shakes her head in a grimace. Now the warm water reached her shoulders. "He isn't. I'm just glad he didn't raise me... My Uncle did. He was more around, He was the best!" Nova smiles brightly when she mentions him. "I'm telling you, Uncle Ian is way better than a father Barty can be. Ian once gave me 1000 dollars when my first girlfriend broke up with me- He took me to a spa and he made me get my nails done after! You would love him- Oh! We should introduce him to one of your friends um, Danny? Is that his name?" Nova asks.

Stiles raises his eyebrows in surprise at the mention of his not-so-friend Danny. "Yeah, but I wouldn't say he's my friend, I don't think he likes me...Wait... Did you say, girlfriend?" Stiles asks. He couldn't believe his ears. Was she actually gay and messing with feelings?

Nova laughs at this, making Stiles frown slightly. His back was turned to her, so luckily she couldn't see. Nova swims forward and stands in front of him as he wipes the frown away, playing it off as he needs to scratch his face. "I'm pansexual. I like anything. You saw the flag; It's the easter colored one," Nova shrugs.

"I'm straight- I think," responds Stiles. Nova tilts her head and holds back her beautiful smile. "You think? Do you like anyone that's a guy? Scott perhaps?"

"Oh gosh no, he's like my brother from another mother," Stiles awkwardly laughs. She scratches his arm and she gushes. He looked so adorable! she loved it when he was nervous, it made her heart flutter.

Nova puts her hands in defense. "I was just saying you don't have to get all defensive," Nova responded laughing. Stiles knew she was joking and he couldn't help but shake his head. "Seriously though, You don't have to have a label... Just know- That it's okay to like what you like," Nova shrugs.

"Well, I like you," Stiles blurts out. He could not believe what he just said. He only had dreamt of it millions of times. He wanted to take her on a date and tell her or hang out under the stars not in a pool at her house. But He couldn't argue, he got half what he wanted, it was just artificial stars.

Nova bites her lip with a big smile. You could see the humor lines in the corner of her eyes that were sparkling because of him. "I like you too," Nova says stepping forward. He takes a step back. "How much do you like me?" Nova asks. "Cause... I like you a lot..."

Stiles choked on his spit. His hands under the water play with the black strings, connected to the ombre grey trunks. "Really?" Nova smiles and kisses his cheek suddenly. Her eyes fall onto his, "A lot- A lot." Nova couldn't help but step closer to him. His back touches the edge of the pool. Nova grabs the tied strings by the hoops and pulls him towards her. Stiles could have sworn his head went lightheaded for a slit second. He takes a deep breath and lets his hands rest on her naked hips, just below her high-waisted bikini bottoms. Their eyes were locked as they got close to each other, increasing the sexual tension that they felt. "You want me to show you how much I like you?" Nova asks seductively.

Stiles whimpers, nodding a bit too quickly. "Please..." He had no idea what he was begging for, but boy was he. He'd get on his knees and beg if he could if it wasn't for this dumb water in the way.

Nova smirks, her head tilts, and slowly leans toward his neck. She kisses him under his ear, forcing another whimper out of his beautiful lips. "I-" Another kiss. "Like-" and another. "You-" and yet another. "This much." the flat of her tongue from the kiss mark to his ear, her teeth nibbling on his ear slightly.

All whilst he kissed his neck, his hands were gripping hard onto her hips, not that he knew, he was too dazed by her. Whimpers and moans a few profanities flying from his lips.

"Naughty boy, need to learn how to speak nicely, huh?" Nova purrs. Stiles nods quickly, his eyes widen with submission. Nova smiles and flips them, his back now facing the center of the pool. Her hands raise behind her on the edge, trying to get up there to sit down. He helps her, his hands hoisting him up by the back of her knees. She stares down at him, her hands slowly reaching for the strings on each side of her bikini bottoms. His eyes follow her slow movements. He almost misses them because of how slow her teasing movements are. Once she knows he isn't going to stop her, she pulls the strings off, removing and throwing the cloth somewhere into the pool.

"Come here, sweet boy, I want your mouth to be put to good use," Nova says, her finger signaling him to do so.

He obeys and steps closer to her. "I've never-" He stutters, his voice cracking. He couldn't finish the words; His mouth was so dry from constantly being in awe.

"I'll teach you," Nova says comfortingly. Stiles was now in front of her semi-naked glory. Her thighs open, showing just how she truly wanted needed him. He whimpers at the sight, his head instantaneously diving into her cunt. He's watched a lot of porn, so he thought he knew what to do. The flat of his tongue finds her bundle of nerves the moment he touches her. Her head falls back, her hand reaching to grab his head. "I think you already know how," Nova moans.

Stiles couldn't help but be smug, smirking into her cunt as he lapped his name out on her clit. After multiple times of spelling out his name, she notices the same pattern that she usually rubbed on her clit. "You're spelling your name," Nova says between moans. He nods into her pussy, his eyes now boring into hers from below. Her other hand that was holding him there then affectionately plays with his hair. "Ain't this a better way for your mouth," She moans. She felt like she could cum at any moment, never have felt like she was this quick. Usually, it would take hours by herself. But this? Oh Lord, this felt way better than her flimsy vibrators, especially her dumb fingers.

Stiles releases from licking her clit, her juices all over the bottom of his face. "Way better, Momma," Stiles agrees. His tongue goes right back where it was, licking the same pattern. This time, a finger teases her wet entrance. She gasps at the feeling, her eyes falling onto his once more. Just then he shoves a finger into her, moving at a deliciously slow pace, occasionally curling up to her favorite spot. Each time his finger hits that spot, it massages it quickly, more moans and profanity flying into the pool room. The combination of his finger, his licking and occasionally sucking was making her head swell. She had no clue how he was so good- and this was his first time doing this?

"Have you done this before?" Nova moans asking. He nods into her releasing once more replacing his tongue with his other hand.

"No, Momma... Watched videos..." Stiles whimpers, rutting against the pool walls. She notices the water move around him and glares, or at least tries to glare. "I've watched- a lot of videos."

"Good boy... Doing research... But not much of a good boy, huh? Rutting against the pool wall like a horny puppy," Nova degrades. Stiles' eyes widen, his face immediately forming into a pout. "Be my good boy and keep fucking them fingers into me, yeah?" Nova demands. He didn't even know that he stopped. He continues fucking his finger into her hole, his other hand fingering her clit. Eventually, he gains enough courage to add another finger and her hand on his hair tightens, tugging it slightly before she controls her strength. He could feel her clench on her, telling all that he needed.

"Come on, Mommy. I wanna see you cum," Stiles begs. His hand that was fingering her clit removes, being replaced by his tongue once more.

"Oh fuck- ah- Msczyclaw!" Nova screams. She cums, and Stiles stared at her with starry eyes. He never told her what his birth name was. People knew what it was, but no one could ever pronounce it so he went by Stiles instead.

Stiles slurps all of her releases, groans turning not vibrations into her cut at the taste. He pulls away from her clenching cunt, and pulls her down into a kiss. Nova slid her way into the pool, his hands holding her hips so she could stand up straight into the water. His needy mouth kissed her with the utmost passion that he could muster. He didn't have to try hard, him going absolutely feral from her moaning his birth name.

As he kissed her, his hands were resting on her ass, holding her up in a sitting position on her waist as he walked to the pool stairs. He laid her down gently, her back touching one of the stairs. Her legs open in response, his body slotting in between. After she came so hard her mind was wired into submissiveness. He picked up on this, taking care of her just as she would. He kisses her face, littering kisses to bring her back. "You look so pretty, Mommy," Stiles whispers. Nova smiles, her hooded eyes staring into his doe ones.

"You're the pretty one, Biscuit," Nova responds in a hushed voice. His stomach flips when she says this, his mind focusing on the nickname. Never has a simple nickname made him so happy.

Nova flips them slowly, now her straddling his waist on the stairs. "Let me take care of you, baby," she whispers.

Stiles pouts, "Please..." He didn't know what he was begging for but he wanted it. He needed it. He needs her to touch him. To take care of him.

Nova tugged on his trunk, gesturing that she wanted permission. He nods and she shakes her head. "Tell me what you want me to do, baby."

Stiles gulps. "I want- I want your hand Mommy, I want you to talk to me," Stiles begs, his voice high and needy.

Nova kisses his nose, her hand pulling his girth out. He was thicker than the dildo that she used, causing a moan to fill the room. "Look at that baby, that pretty cock just for me," she coos, her thumb sliding of the slit to gather his precum.

His eyes roll back at the praise. This was better than any fantasy he'd ever thought of. This one was dirty, upright filthy.

She leans down, kisses his dick, licking it after. "Taste wonderful, so sweet for me," she says after. Her wrists turn around him, her eyes looking into his. He tries to keep his eyes open, wanting to remember every detail that he could. He fails at times, his eyes close from the delicious sensation his cock was being received.

"Bet I'm better than your hand huh?" Nova laughs teasing. She was thinking of him going to the stall to rub one out again, moaning for her to let him release. Her good little boy moaned in a public bathroom. It's a surprise he didn't get caught.

"Yes... Mommy, feel much better," Stiles croaks breathily bringing her out of her quick thoughts. His chest was rising up and down, slightly trying to catch up on his breath. Before he could take another breath, he cums all over her hand, some flying onto her face from the blast. He whimpers at the orgasm and the sight. He kisses her, his cum on her now on the tip of his tongue. He couldn't help but continue whimpering as he kissed her delicious lips.

She kept rubbing his cock to help him come down from his high. Even after he came down her hand never stopped. "Think you have another of em' in you, sweet boy; I know you do," she purrs encouraging him. more.

"Ah- Mommy it hurts!" he cries quickyly. But she doesn't stop, her hand only goes faster, her thumb occasionally teasing the tip of his throbbing length.

"I know, sweetie. But you're strong, aren't you? My sweet boy is so strong."

Stiles was too fucked out to argue, his brain short-circuiting because of her. The pain he had only grown stronger, now forming into delicious pleasure once more. He moans loudly, his moans echoing against the tiled walls. "Mommy... I need you."

"You'll have me after this, I wanna see cum just one more time... You can do that for me, can you?"

Stiles nods quickly in response. His hands were tight on her hips, his hips bucking into her hand. Nova's free hand cups his face as she leaves a kiss on his nose. Her hand moves to wipe the sweat off his brow after.

Nova's free hand then moves to her top, untying the strings that he tied effortlessly. Her perky boobs bounce as she slings it off. His moans become louder, cum flying out of him once more. "Ah- Mommy," He whimpers. She litters kisses on his face as praise, pushing him over the high faster as he continues cumming. Cum splattered on her tits and his stomach. Tears fell from his face from the overstimulation high. She now hovers over him, a worried/tired look on his face. "Please not yet, it hurts," Stiles whimpers.

She nods and kisses his cheek assuring him she isn't going to do so unless he says so. "Just tell me when okay, biscuit?" Her voice asks in a caring tone. "Just say green- you know the spotlight thing, yeah?"

"Yeah, I do," Stiles responds. His breathing was quick, sweat at his brow while they were furrowed. Stiles look down to her tits and then back to her eyes. He wanted to lick them so bad, they looked perfect- so round.

Nova guides his head to her chest, knowing exactly what he wants. At that point he didn't have to speak, instead, he just had to look. She read his eyes like a psychic in a sci-fi movie. His teeth latched onto her hardened nipple, rolling them gently between his teeth. Her hand in his hair tightens, tugging slightly as she moans. "Green... I need- I need you, now," He whines, his hip rutting up into her folds. His tip slides against her clit, finding her entrance after. His tightened grip on her hip pushes her down, his hips meeting her halfway.

She doesn't expect the quickness of it. Or how he entered himself, she was expecting herself having to do that.

"Use me, baby, guide me to your high," Nova whispers breathily. His hips snapped into her cunt repeatedly at a fast pace. The squelching sound returns, this time from his curved cock kissing her cervix like it was made to do. His mouth goes to her other nipple, giving it just as much attention as the other. All while he does so, the sensitivity of his cock in her wetness drilling in her was forcing whimpers and needy groans from his parted lips.

"Fuck, Momma- Your Pussy is squeezing me like a vice," Stiles growls weakly. His mouth goes from her tit to his shoulder, biting on it to muffle his sounds.

The sounds squeezed through his lips, vibrating into her body as she rode him like no tomorrow. His hands guided her movements, his stomach turning with each movement. It jumped and hollered as she did so, screaming for more. Craving it. He needed her- he needt o feel her cum on his cock. He wanted it more than anything right now.

"My sweet boy, so cute noises," Nova coos. She pulled his head back so she could look at him. "I wanna hear that music, songbird."

At that, he feels the high return in his twisted stomach. "Mommy- I'm," Stiles whines, cutting himself off with a choke on his spit. Nova cups his face and wipes his wet face. "Such a good boy for me, baby- Fucking filthy for me," Nova moans, her hips pounding onto his cock. she leans forward, her chest now leaning against hers as his hips continue to bounce on his. The sound and the feel of her breath on his face almost pushed him over the edge.

"Please- Please let me cum... Mommy please-" He choked again. "I need it, be nice to me, please," Stiles begs, his hands rubbing her back to gain access for him to release.

"Don't you dare cum Stiles... " Nova says quickly.

Stiles was going insane. The pleasure was just too much, he knew he could say red light and everything would stop but gosh it felt so good. He's dreamed of this for years. At home in his bed, in his bathroom, in class, in the school bathroom, in lacrosse practice, even at breakfast!

"I can't hold it anymore, Momma! Wanna cum in you... please-"

Nova cuts him off with a forceful kiss. "Cum, sweet boy... I wanna feel it paint my walls," she moans.

He cums inside her, his fingernails digging into her hips. He screams as he finishes, his head falling back with the utmost pleasure that he's ever felt in his life. He felt like he could just cum again just from feeling himself cumming inside. His release oozed out of her as continued riding him, a white ring forming around his cock, the first ring that she'd given him thus far. "Fuck-Momma-"

"Trust me, sweet boy, I'm not done with you," Nova says. Just then she gets off of him, picks him up bridal style, and carries him up to her room. He was in for a long night...

#teen wolf #dylan o'brien #stiles stilinski #stiles #tw #stiles x reader #stiles x reader smut #teen wolf smut #teen wolf stiles #sub!stiles #Nerd! Stiles #Vampire!reader #Dom!reader #smut #mommy kink #Sub! Dylan O'brien

[strayheartless]

Do you ever think about the fact that Terra technically has a little bit of responsibility to take for what happened to Riku in KH1? Cause I do.

Like I’m not saying that Terra is terrible or that he’s completely to blame, because he’s not. I love Terra as a character. He’s great! However I am saying that one of the many mistakes Terra made in BBS was bequeathing his Keyblade to Riku the way he did.

And I think Aqua knew it too.

Maybe I’m stating the obvious here, but something that becomes pretty apparent to me from that scene is that Terra didn’t actually think about the logistics of giving his keyblade to a seven year old kid. Nor did he really think of the responsibility that placed on him, to teach Riku how to be a keyblade barer.

When Terra helps Riku make the oath, he doesn’t really explain the weight of it to Riku, and quite honestly even if he had, Riku was still only seven. Yes okay, he was a seven year old who thought protecting his best friend was the most important thing, but he’s still only seven. Terra could t really expect Riku to comprehend what taking on the role of a keyblade barer meant, especially since Riku didn’t even know what one was!

And then Terra leaves, and it’s not made clear whether or not he plans to come back and teach Riku. He leaves this kid to simply figure this stuff out by himself, when Riku doesn’t even know where to start.

By comparison Aqua makes a purposeful decision not to bequeath her keyblade to sora. And I think that was less to do with the fact that Terra had already given one of the boys a keyblade, and more to do with the fact that she recognised that unless she was sure she could come back, then giving the keyblade to sora would be a bad idea. Because she couldn’t come back to teach him the way Terra, Ven and herself were taught. She knew better then to place that pressure on a child, to simply do it themselves.

Personally I believe that part of Riku’s desperation to be the best. To be the strongest, the smartest, the fastest, the wisest; came from an expectation that Terra placed on him to “have the strength to protect what matters”.

Riku had no idea that what he needed was a teacher. He had no idea the amount of training and practice it took to become a keyblade master, because he didn’t have a teacher! Because Terra left, and he never came back.

And I know that’s not Terras fault. But part of the reason I think that it was such a bad idea to gift Riku the keyblade, was because -technically- Terra didn’t have the right. He wasn’t a master, he failed his exam and was made to go away and re-evaluate his relationship to the darkness.

To me thats the first sign that you shouldn’t be handing out keyblades to kids on beaches.

Riku had the same priorities as Terra, and that was both of their downfalls in the end. It’s becoming Sora’s weakness in real time as we play the games. The difference is, Riku became a master because -unlike Terra he stared long and hard at his relationship to the darkness and learned that it wasn’t about using it to protect his friends, it was about allowing it to consume him.

But Riku could only learn that because he was pushed to the brink of destruction, that was caused by his fear of failing to become a Keyblade barer.

And who placed that weight of expectation on him?

Terra.

I dunno man, I have a lot of thinking thoughts. Most of them incoherent.

Tell me what you think???

#kingdom hearts #riku kingdom hearts #terra kingdom hearts #destiny islands #kingdom hearts birth by sleep #Riku and Terra #aqua kingdom hearts #sora kingdom hearts #KH1 riku #kh1 #kingdom hearts dream drop distance #kingdom hearts 3 #kh3 #kingdom hearts 1 #ventus

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 (𝐈)

[panel reads from right to left]

» Part 2 [ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] This was initially parts 1 and 2, but I decided to combine them. [ SYNOPSIS ] Summer is approaching and you desire to attend class like a good student is dwindling. You decide to ditch class and soak up the sun (okay, Sheryl Crow), but end up face-to-face with star pitcher, Zeke Yeager, who has similar plans. [ WORD COUNT ] 3.8k [ CONTENT ] High school AU, cigarettes, poor school attendance, Grisha's a shitty dad, and you have to ride a bike up a steep ass hill.

“Wait, so you’re really going to ditch?” Pieck asked.

She was always unimpressed with your life choices though her judgment did little to stop you. You haphazardly tossed your physics textbook in your locker and slammed it shut.

“It’s Friday. What could I possibly miss?”

Pieck sighed. “I don’t know, a pop quiz?”

“A pop quiz? I don’t think I’ve ever had a pop quiz in my academic career.”

“We’ve definitely had them.”

“Okay, but who actually calls them that? It’s not like we live in a John Hughes movie.”

You both headed down the hall, towards the back of the school. It was the easiest way to escape the campus. All the other openings were patrolled by the one lazy campus cop that spent his time harassing students for no good reason.

“I guess this is where we part then,” Pieck muttered. “I’ll let you know if you miss anything…” 

She wandered off, angry you’d be letting her suffer in physics class all alone.

“Sorry!” You waved, hoping she’d turn around. But she never did.

You pushed through the double doors and relished in the sunlight kissing your skin. It was 90 degrees but a cool breeze tempered the heat. A perfect day in June.

You looked around, not a soul in sight. You crept past a couple beige portables the school built three years ago.

“… I thought portables were supposed to be temporary,” you mumbled under your breath once you cleared the area.

“They just tell us that to placate us.”

You whipped around to see star pitcher and general nuisance, Zeke Yeager, laying down in the grass. He was wearing his cream colored fitted baseball pants; the knees strained with brown dirt. He wore a tight white t-shirt tucked into his pants with a black belt. He sat up, and lit a cigarette. He adjusted his glasses, and looked you up and down.

“Don’t you have class?” He took a long drag and exhaled the smoke in your general direction.

“I could easily ask you the same thing.”

“Feel free.”

“Don’t you have cl—”

“Oh yeah, I had physics but I decided to skip it today. Do I really need to learn about gravity if I already deal with it everyday?”

You gave him a quizzical look. He could not have been this dense. His grey eyes met yours; his gaze was intense.

“I’m kidding.”

You stood around awkwardly. Part of you wanted to peace out and let this talking ashtray go back to laying on the field. But the other part was transfixed by his demeanor.

“I figured. You don’t look that stupid,” you said.

“What class are you ditching?”

You dropped your backpack and sat next to Zeke, making sure to keep some distance from him. He was cute and it made you woefully nervous.

“Anatomy.”

“Lame. I would’ve ditched too.”

Zeke was notorious for his shitty attendance. He was perpetually ten minutes late. And he ditched class whenever he felt like it. No one gave him any shit though because he was on the baseball team. Your high school followed the classic rule: athletes can basically do whatever the fuck they want so long as they don’t fail their courses.

That was something Zeke never needed to worry about. He was intelligent, one of the smartest boys in your class. He had never gotten a single F in his life. You only knew this because people tended to talk about him in the halls. He wasn’t popular by any means, but everyone knew him. He was the best pitcher on the team. He frequently got caught smoking cigarettes in the bathroom. He got invited to all the parties.

“What class would you not ditch?” You questioned.

He lit another cigarette with the cherry end of his previous one.

“I don’t know. I like lit and film a lot.”

Your jaw dropped.

“I wanted to get into that class so bad!”

He snickered. “What did you get instead?”

“… Multicultural lit. Also known as, let’s read books from Western European countries because that’s so multicultural. I fail to recognize how reading a bunch of books by old white men is multicultural in any sense.”

“Are you implying white men operate under a universal culture?”

“And if I am?”

He took a drag. “You’re a genius.”

Your face grew hot. No one had ever called you a genius before, jokingly or not.

“Th—thanks.”

“Yeah, most of my teammates got into lit and film pretty easy, but you know… Privilege.”

You couldn’t hide your distaste. “It’s bullshit.”

“Oh, no! You’re absolutely right. I assure you I am the only one in there that knows we have a 12 page paper on Rashomon due next week.”

You threw your hands up in the air. “See! I want to write an essay on Kurosawa!”

He laughed. “You can write mine, if you want.”

You looked at him, completely dumbfounded.

“Ew, no.”

He playfully elbowed you in the ribs.

“I figured it was worth a shot. You want one?”

He offered you a cigarette. It was one of those weird brown ones, no filter. You’d only smoked once at a party. You had chugged three light beers and decided to bum one off of a rando. A menthol. It didn’t vibe with your lungs to say the least.

But for whatever reason, you said, “Sure.”

He handed you one and you were puzzled. You examined both ends, not sure which one you should light.

“Here,” he said softly.

He plucked the cigarettes from your hands and held it to your lips. His face was so close to yours, you thought you would die right then and there. You parted your lips and accepted the cigarette. He held a lighter to the end.

“Inhale,” he commanded.

You did and immediately coughed.

“Shit, my throat,” you choked out.

He placed a heavy hand on your shoulder, smiling like a proud father.

“Feels good, right?”

“Hardly.” You took another drag and coughed.

“Are you trying to look cool for me, kiddo?”

“No,” you gasped.

He squeezed your shoulder and then proceeded to take the cigarette from you.

“You’re too pretty to smoke anyway.”

“And you aren’t?”

“Are you implying that I’m pretty?”

“Are you implying that I’m pretty?” you parroted back.

He blushed. “It didn’t imply it so much as directly admit it,” he laughed.

“What the fuck is going on here? Yeager, don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”

It was the campus cop.  You panicked. You weren't a little miss perfect type, but you would be grounded for a month if you got caught cutting class. The cop was far off enough that you could maybe make a break for it. You stared at the gate in the distance. You were fast. And Zeke was an athlete so running should be easy for him. The cop began to lumber towards you both.

“Let’s go,” you whispered, sneakily putting your backpack on.

“What?”

The cop was cresting the hill. You were running out of time.

“Let’s,” you stood up, “go!”

You grabbed Zeke by the wrist and dragged him upright.

“Where?”

You pointed at the gate.

“C’mon, baseball boy, I’m not trying to go to baby jail.”

You both ran towards the gate. You prayed for freedom. You looked back at the cop and finally reached your original location. He stood confused and shouted, “Yeager! Where you going, dude?!”

“Dude?” you panted. You don’t know what possessed you to speak while running for your life.

“Yeah, he tries to act like we’re cool. It’s odd.”

You stopped once you reached the gate. You slid through the opening and ended up in a residential area. You were both catching your breath when you noticed you were still holding onto him.

“Oh fuck, my bad.”

“Huh?” He looked down at his wrist. “Oh! Ha, you’re fine. I didn’t mind your gorilla grip. I doubt I would’ve ran that fast on my own. I am in sandals.”

He gestured towards his feet, he was in fact wearing Birkenstocks and white gym socks.

“Well, now what?” you pondered.

You examined the row of tract homes, some more derelict than others. Most of the windows were busted in leaving the sidewalk glittered with broken glass. You dragged your foot across the shards, relishing in the noise of it cracking under your weight.

Zeke stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “I’m gonna head home. I wanna nap before practice.”

“Oh,” you said dejectedly.

You were hoping you would go on some sort of adventure together. Maybe grab burritos. Talk more about Kurosawa films. Smoke his fancy cigarettes. Maybe even rest your head on his shoulder.

“But I’m not doing anything after. We might be going kind of late tonight, but if you’re free we should meet up.”

“Really?!” You adjusted your tone so you didn’t sound so eager. “Yeah, I don’t have anything going on so sure.”

“Cool. Here.” He handed you his phone. “Add your number.”

You added your number to his contacts list.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked, handing his phone back to him.

“Not sure, but you’re smart. I’m sure you’ll think of something.” He punctuated the sentence with a wink and walked off.

You sighed and decided to head home. You were a latchkey kid so it’s not like anyone would be waiting for you. Halfway through your journey your phone vibrated multiple times in rapid succession. You checked it and saw messages from an unknown number:

you’re not gonna be one of those gorgeous girls that ghosts me, right? sorry that sounds so pathetic. promise i’m not one of those guys that get butthurt over a girl i’m looking forward to hanging out lol SHIT. sorry if i’m laying it on thick. you looked so cute choking to death.

Ghosting Zeke did cross your mind, mostly because you wanted to beat him to the punch. You found it hard to believe he wanted anything to do with you. It wasn’t a lack of confidence on your part; you knew you were hot shit. Simply put it all felt absurd, too idyllic. Meet up with him after baseball practice? Ha, sure.

But to your surprise you got a series of texts.

SHIT. sorry if i’m laying it on thick. you looked so cute choking to death. WAS THAT INAPPROPRIATE TO SAY? i feel like it was. was it weird? 😂 hella weird but it's okay for the record that emoji was ironic sure it was. is 8 too late? ... i take it back. i rhymed. we can’t hang out. sorry ⚰️

You opted to call him. The phone rang for what felt like forever

“He would be the type to not answer his—”

“Hello?”

“Oh! Hi! Uh,” you spat out in a panic.

Words were a foreign concept. You hadn’t thought about what you’d say after he answered the phone. You weren’t much of a planner evidently.

“Is 8 too la—Nope, not doing it again. Does 8 work for you?”

You smiled at him avoiding the rhyme. His voice radiated pride.

“Nope. I’m not some baby.”

“Never said you were one, kiddo.”

“Kiddo? Really?”

“I said what I said.”

Could he be anymore obnoxious? You shook your head. He probably could.

You sighed. “Whatever. What do you wanna do?”

“Can you ride a bike?”

You paused. “… Yes.”

“Do you have one?”

You thought hard. Your mom had a beat up, turquoise fixed gear she kept in the garage but you couldn’t even remember the last time you rode a bike.

“Yeah, I have my mom’s.”

“Cool. I’ll drop a pin. See you soon, beautiful.”

He hung up before you could even comprehend a word he said. You looked down at your outfit. You felt anything other than beautiful. You got off your bed and walked over to your closet. You eyed a floral-print sundress but shook your head. You barely knew him! It had only been a few hours since you last saw him. You never put this much thought into stuff like this, so why start now? You had every reason in the world to be confident.

But alas, you remained self-conscious. Plagued with insecurity and teenage woe.

“Try hard,” you murmured.

Nothing looked particularly appealing. You were embarrassed it crossed your mind to look cute for Zeke.

“Gross. If anything I should look uglier.”

You decided not to change your outfit. There was no reason to overthink it. You were going biking with the guy and it’s not even like it was a date. He just asked you to hang out in a very flirtatious way.

You ran downstairs and crept into the garage to grab your mom’s bike. As you managed to free it from the closet you knocked over the recycling bin.

“Sweetie, is everything okay out there?”

You panicked. She wouldn’t mind you taking her bike, nor would she mind you going out on a Friday night. But you couldn’t bear the thought of telling her you were going to meet up with a boy. You hit the switch and opened the garage door.

“Yup. Yes. 100%.” You grimaced as you exited. “I’ll be home late. I’ll text you if I die or something.”

“Sounds good.”

And off you went.

You biked to the spot Zeke told you to meet him at. The whole thing felt kind of shady the more you thought about it. It didn’t help that he essentially had you scaling a hill. You knew by the time you got to the top you’d be sweaty. The only thing that kept you sane was knowing he’d likely be gross from baseball practice.

“Fuck,” you panted. “This is so not cool. I can’t believe I let this shithead convince me—”

“Hey there!”

You dropped your concentration for a brief moment and glanced up to see Zeke. He waved manically, clearly hamming it up for you. Typical boy nonsense.

“You’re so close! You can do it!”

You finally reached the top of the hill and leaned your mom’s bike down on the ground. You sat down on the curb and tried to catch your breath.

“Hi,” was all you could cough out.

Zeke sat down beside you. He was still in his baseball uniform. He draped an arm around you, giving you a little squeeze.

“Nice bike!”

“Thanks,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder. Shockingly he didn’t reek. He smelled like a pleasant combination of peppermint Altoids and additive-free tobacco.

“If I had known you’d be rolling up on a Bianchi I would’ve had us meet on flat land. You could’ve hopped on the back of mine.”

He leaned his head on top of yours. You typically weren’t such a touchy person but something about Zeke leant himself to human contact. It felt natural, like it was always meant to be like that. His blonde hair felt like velvet up against your cheek.

“The view is worth it though, right?” he asked, expectantly. 

There was a hint of worry, maybe even desperation to his tone. You stared out at the suburbs, which soon gave way to the city. The lights seemed endless, rows and rows of yellow and white pinpricking the darkness. Suburbia was never very attractive in any sense of the word, but he was right. The view was nice; it had been worth it.

“Yeah, it’s not too bad. How was practice?”

He sighed deeply.

“I’m the only person that showed up on time. No one else had their shit together. My catcher was somehow hungover even though it was a Friday afternoon and he’s barely 18. I got a ball thrown at my ass. My thumb feels weird. And my dad forgot to pick me up… Again.”

“Wow. Uh.” You struggled to find words that would console him.

“Sorry. It was not a good day to say the least.”

“No, no, I’m sorry. It sucks when you’re the only one that gives a shit.”

“No, kiddo, I’m sorry.”

“Kiddo?” you said, voice dripping with disdain.

“See! Sorry for calling you kiddo. Look at all the things I have to apologize for.”

You stared at him in disbelief. He gave you a little cat-like smirk. His grey eyes might as well have been sparkling. He knew he was charming. Boys like him were always the most beguiling. They were the ones you needed to keep an eye on, to keep at an arm’s length.

And yet, here you were with him, staring out into a vast expanse of human civilization with barely any space between you two.

“Apologies accepted then. But in all seriousness, I’m sorry your evening was shit. How did you end up getting home?”

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

“I walked,” he said, coolly.

“Far?”

He took a long drag and let the smoke drift out of his mouth.

“Few miles.”

“Well, you seem to be o—”

“I had… all my gear. I told him where to meet me. It’s not like he was clueless.”

“I—”

“But of course he tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal. His logic was, ‘It wasn’t a game.’ As if the issue was him not witnessing me play.”

You quickly realized he needed someone to merely listen to him. By look on his face you could tell people didn’t tend to lend him an ear when he needed to vent.

Zeke continued. “It’s... One second I convince myself I don’t care. And then the other… I don’t know.”

You desperately wanted to find the words to make him better. You hated to see anyone in such dire straits.

“I’m sorry your dad is such a fuck.”

He guffawed. “Understatement of the year. I wish I could return him.”

A lightbulb went off in your head. “Return to sender.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and mimicked a call. “Hey, grandpa, yeah, it’s Zeke. Can you take Grisha back?”

“He’s broken; it doesn’t father properly,” you snickered.

“Listen, I know he’s your son but he’s worthless.”

“Every day he finds new ways to disappoint everyone.”

“We thought ruining his first marriage would’ve taught him to do better but here we are.”

“Please take back this ugly man you call your son.”

He snorted. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let’s slow down. I do kind of look like him.”

You stared blankly at him. “All the more reason to stand by what I said.”

You both broke out into a fit of laughter.

“Oh, fuck, kiddo. You’re too much.”

You punched his arm.

“We’re the same age, aren’t we? You have no reason to call me that.”

“It’s ironic. That’s charming, right? You’re into irony.”

You took a good look at him. He was right; you did have an affinity for irony.

“Charming? You? Ha!” you scoffed.

“I’ll have you know I’m a delight. People love me.”

“Psh.”

Again, he was right. He was endearing, easy to talk to. There was a reason everyone at school knew him. The teachers adored him and sang his praises. Girls whispered about him in the locker room. But oddly enough he wasn’t one of the “popular kids”. People talked about Zeke but they never talked to him. They treated him more as an idea, a concept, rather than a person.

“I’m a treat. You will never convince me otherwise.”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t bother. It’d be fruitless,” you said.

“So you’re admitting that I’m charming?”

“I guess.”

A smug expression crept upon his face. If you could’ve taken back those two words, you would have.

“The feeling is mutual,” he said in a singsong voice.

Your eyes widened and your face grew warm. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Wow! Look at us! Two charming friends!” you called out nervously.

Idiot. You didn’t want to be friends! You wanted him to wrap his arms around you, call you kiddo even though it annoyed you, kiss you under the fucking stars! You cursed your mouth for betraying you. It crossed your mind to toss out a casual “jk” but you froze.

However the comment didn’t seem to bother Zeke.

“You know I can’t remember the last time someone actually called me their friend.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. How embarrassing is that.” He adjusted his glasses; clearly a nervous habit.

“I’ve heard more embarrassing things.”

He smiled. “Oh, good.”

“I don’t have many friends either, if it makes you feel better. I mean, other than Pieck I’m a bit of a loner.”

“I know, it never made sense to me.”

Jesus fucking Christ, was he trying to kill you with kindness?

You laughed nervously. “I think people think I’m a bit of bitch or standoffish. I could probably be friendlier.”

“Fuck that.” He lit another cigarette. “Want one?”

You shook your head.

He continued. “Being friendly is overrated. People take advantage of that. Plus you’re hardly bitchy. You just listened to me whine about my daddy issues. You’re a saint if anything.”

Again, he was laying it on thick. Calling you a saint was borderline too much to take.

“You have to stop. I’m gonna die if you keep gassing me up like this.”

He coughed. “Fine. You’re gross. The worst. I never want to see you and your nasty ass again.”

“There we go.”

He leaned his head on your shoulder again. The more you thought about his behavior it became clear he didn’t get much affection, platonic or otherwise. You still had an inkling he had a crush on you. But you decided to focus more on being a friend, someone he could come to. You knew a girlfriend could do those things, but romance seemed trivial. He didn’t need a love interest; he needed a buddy.

You were ripped away from your thoughts as you heard a faint vibration.

“Ugh. It’s my dad.”

Zeke got up and answered his phone.

“What?!” he shouted.

He wandered off. You could hear him arguing in the distance. Part of you wanted to run up and grab his phone and tell his dad off. But that would’ve been absolutely bonkers. You looked out at the view and tried to think about other things.

“Whatever. Bye.”

You heard footsteps behind you and the flicker of a lighter.

“What happened?” you asked; your voice filled with concern.

He stared at you. His grey eyes were lifeless.

“I gotta go.”

“Oh, okay,” you said with a frown. 

“But I had fun. Thanks for hanging out with me. Are you gonna get home okay?”

“Yeah, I don’t live too far from here.”

You both stood in silence, staring at your shoes. Neither of you wanted to go home.

“Can I… escort you home?”

“Sure?”

His eyes lit up and he tossed his lit cigarette into the street. You prayed it didn’t start a fire.

“Cool! Let’s go!”

He picked up his bike and mounted it. You did the same.

“Race down the hill? I know it’s steep, but it’ll be fun,” he said with a goofy, boyish grin.

You usually weren’t reckless as grievous bodily harm was anything but appealing, but you said fuck it.

“Ladies first!” And with that you sped down the hill.

“Cheater!” Zeke shouted as he trailed after you.

Needless to say, you won the race.

#zeke yeager x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke yeager fics #zeke jaeger fics #aot fluff #snk fluff #attack on titan fluff #shingeki no kyojin fluff #zeke yeager fluff #zeke jaeger fluff #aot fics #snk fics #reader insert #x reader #.fics #.aot #.zeke

[tokkias]

nalu as childhood friends headcanons? because you’re full of knowing and being right :)

omg anon you know what. ur so right, i am /j.

i just assumed modern au and then went wacko crazy with that. hope that is okay <3 all due credit to @nalunalu because she is half of my brain and came up with a lot of these.

they are very, very unlikely best friends because they live in very different parts of town and in very different socioeconomic situations

they get seated next to each other in elementary and little unmedicated-for-his-adhd natsu will not stop trying to talk to her

lucy was such a teachers pet and always the smartest in her classes so other students tended to resent/bully her

natsu was the first person to ever be friendly to her that didn't have ulterior motives (getting answers to their homework)

after that lucy just sort of sticks to his side every time they go for recess because otherwise she would be stuck by herself

natsu doesn't really mind it but as soon as lucy offers him a snack from her lunch and he never leaves her alone after that. they are best friends now in his eyes

when he meets her for the first time, igneel is very endeared towards lucy

jude. does not feel the same about natsu

he tolerates natsu being around because he's always been around, and layla liked him a lot when she was alive

they had their first kiss (sort of) in middle school because natsu was running and not looking where he was going until someone shouted out that lucy was in his way and he turned his head just in time for their lips to touch before he barreled her over

lucy is mortified, insists that this does not count and tells natsu he is not allowed to tell anyone ever

natsu honours her request but lucy is awkward about it for like a week and cannot look him in the eye even though he doesn't get what the big deal is

going into high school they both know that they're going to be separated because lucy is going to be sent to a private school while natsu can only afford going to a public school

lucys begs and begs and begs some more to be sent to public school but jude will not budge

natsu does not want to be separated. he pretty much sees going with her as his only option so he works his ass off for a sports scholarship

lucy tutors him for the entrance exam and then proceeds to tutor him throughout high school so he can keep his scholarship

natsu plays every sport under the sun and lucy goes to all of his games

similarly, lucy plays the violin (though not of her own volition) and natsu comes to all of her recitals

jude assumes that they'd grow apart as they got older but they didn't. if anything they're closer in their teenage years

jude starts forbidding natsu from coming over when they're teens because he doesn't like the idea of lucy being alone in her room with a boy, it doesn't matter that they've known each other for years

this sparks the beginning of a rebellious streak where lucy will either sneak natsu in or she'll stay with natsu and lie about staying with levy or erza

natsu walks her home every day even though they live nowhere close to each other

when lucy swears not to tell a soul, natsu doesn't count. he knows everything lucy knows and nothing ever leaves their little bubble

natsu hears a lot of gossip because people just assume he's not listening when he is. anything he thinks lucy would be interested in he immediately tells her

he doesn't care for gossip but lucy does and he thinks it's funny when she gasps and gets over dramatic about finding out things

natsu has so many pictures from their childhood together and he frequently goes through them and sends pictures of any of the ones lucy looks stupid/funny/bad in and sends them to her without context

no guy ever dares to ask lucy out because they either think she's dating natsu or they're afraid of what he'd do to them if they did

he has made it very clear that anyone who hurts lucy will get hurt by him

their real first kiss happens in high school because lucy is all woe-is-me about not having her first kiss and natsu reminds her that they did technically kiss in middle school

after a lot of arguing about if that kiss counted or not, they kiss for real, just to see what the fuss is about

natsu only ever goes to school events at lucy's insistence

if she's not going he isn't either because he basically just sticks by her side at all times

lucy has a hidden spot in the library that she goes to whenever she's feeling down

no one but natsu knows it exists and if he can't find her he knows that's where she is

he always goes to her because he doesn't like her being sad on her own

sometimes they chat, sometimes she doesn't want to talk so they just sit in silence together and they're both okay with that

#mya's mumbles #nalu #headcanons #wow sorry this took so long #it's been sitting in my drafts for weeks im sorry about that </3 #but thank you for the request i had fun with it

[azertyrobaz]

Satellites (5/7)

What if Grogu hadn’t returned to Din in The Book of Boba Fett? What if he hadn’t been given a choice? – Modern AU setting: Grogu is now twelve, and he has to rely on his memories as a young child to track down the person who changed his life. The only person he knows who will be able to protect him from the bad man. The bad man who precipitated his separation from the only family he’s ever known. He embarks on a road trip to piece together his past, and reconnect with the people who might help him find his family again.

Read below or on ao3.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

************

Grogu couldn’t let go of his father’s neck. He was still shaking. He thought he’d never see him again. He thought he’d be stuck there forever with all the bad men.

“He doesn't want to go with you,” his deep voice rumbled. He turned around slowly in his arms and saw the other man there. His name was Luke. He looked kind. He’d explained he came from the place where they had sent those tests his dad had made him fill out a few weeks back. The ones Ahsoka had suggested. They’d been easy. But fun. Numbers were fun. Always. But now that he was actually there to take him to his school…

“He wants your permission.”

Grogu stared into his father’s eyes. They were a lighter shade of brown than his but right now they looked completely black. He seemed sad. And scared.

“He is the smartest child I have ever met, but he needs proper schooling and guidance. I can provide both.”

The young boy exhaled deeply. This was going too fast. He’d just been reunited with his dad and he already had to say goodbye? No, he wanted to stay.

“Hey, go on,” his father urged, turning him towards Luke again. He didn’t look angry, he was just waiting for him.

“That's who you belong with. He's like you.”

They’d talked about it. Many times. He was six now and he needed to go to school. They couldn’t travel together anymore, it was too risky and people would ask questions. School sounded okay, especially if he’d get to learn some more about numbers. And school wasn’t forever, right? They’d travel again. Just the two of them. It was only for a little while. It wouldn’t be too scary.

“I'll see you again, I promise.”

Grogu hugged his father one last time. He felt him flinch then hug him back just as hard.

“All right, pal. It's time to go. Don't be afraid.”

************

He couldn’t sleep.

Ahsoka had parked her car a couple of miles away from the address Greef had given him, declaring she was too exhausted to go further, and had promptly closed her eyes. Her breaths were deep and regular. She was either fast asleep or a very good actress. Because nothing was stopping him from grabbing his bag and finishing the journey on foot – she’d probably counted on him doing just that. He didn’t doubt for a second that she was as tired as she said, though. As far as he was aware, she hadn’t slept while they were at Bo-Katan’s place, and she’d done nothing but driving for days.

Grogu didn’t feel like leaving the car just yet. His mind was a whirlwind. He was also running on fumes, but he was too on edge to rest.

His father was right at the end of this track.

Well, his cabin, at least. Which was a start.

It was funny that they basically had to retrace their steps all the way back to Nevarro, even if Ahsoka had groaned at the prospect of the 4+ hours journey. The address for the cabin was about an hour away from the small town, in the middle of a sparse forest, with tiny ponds of clear water here and there. It didn’t even have a name on the map they’d looked at and they hadn’t passed another car since they’d found the barely discernible track.

It was definitely the right spot. The one he’d been searching for all this time. And he was terrified.

Grogu looked at Ahsoka sitting next to him and still doing a good job at pretending (or not) to be asleep. When he’d announced that he’d found his dad’s cabin that morning, there had been no doubt in his mind that she would be the one driving him there. And yet Bo-Katan’s reaction had surprised him. She’d turned into a completely different person once he’d mentioned Moff Gideon – she was on a mission. She had a goal. A  crew to assemble. A plan to devise. She’d even given him a stiff hug when they said their goodbyes, Ahsoka promising she’d get Din to call her – her way to apologize for earlier, he guessed.

If they found his dad, he hoped he wouldn’t rush after Gideon immediately. But then, wasn’t that the reason why he had been looking for him in the first place? So that he could save him one more time? Make sure he would never be subjected to his experiments again?

Grogu shuddered and rifled through his backpack. He didn’t want to think about it. When he felt too overwhelmed, he would only be able to relax by writing things down. Compartmentalize. Rationalize. He smiled slightly when he saw what he’d already written and crossed out in his notebook:

New car: yellow convertible Corvette?

No news for 4 years: moved abroad? work with military? bad injury + “retired”?

Boba Fett: be careful –> didn’t follow me

Came to the institute 4-5 years ago: why? turned away but not forbidden to come back

Asked Omera + Ahsoka to take care of me: couldn’t/refused

Give Winta her sweater + money back: ask to keep the sweater?

Luke knows I’m okay

ALIVE

He underlined the last word a few more times. He wanted to write down the address Greef had given him, make it even more real, but he thought it was probably safer not to – his father had gone through a lot of trouble to hide where he was, and enough people already knew the place: Greef himself, who’d actually promised on the phone that he hadn’t revealed it to anyone else, and now Ahsoka, Bo-Katan, and him.

Looking at his notes wasn’t proving very helpful to figure out what he would say to him when he saw him, but at least he felt a little better. The last few days had been eye-opening, in more ways than one, and they had strangely allowed him to get to know the man he called his father better, despite not having spoken to him for six years.

Grogu thought he understood why he’d tried to give him away – partly, at least – but he hoped he’d get the chance to say his piece. Maybe they couldn’t be reunited the way he wanted them too, but he might be able to tell him how he felt, something he’d been incapable to do as a six year old. And he couldn’t help feeling a little hopeful after hearing Bo-Katan’s assumption that he’d grown weary of his line of work. Perhaps there was room for him in his life now?

“There’s something I still haven’t figured out,” said Ahsoka, sounding wide awake and making him jump about a foot on his seat. “Where were you before you reached Nevarro? I tracked you down around Chicago, then all the way to that car mechanic in Nevada, but then I lost you again.”

Grogu smiled discretely and tried very hard not to look at his sweater – Winta’s sweater, the one he wanted to keep – which spelled ‘Sorgan Lothcats’ on his chest and would have been a dead giveaway.

“I was with friends,” he said simply. “I rested for a while, it was nice.”

Ahsoka hummed. “Well, kudos for losing me, I guess.” And she made a big show of shaking his hand, which he thought quite funny.

Looking outside, he realized that their surroundings weren’t so different from Sorgan’s, which wasn’t very far from here either. Sure, the vegetation wasn’t as dense and the trees as tall, it wasn’t as pretty, but it was close. He wondered if his father had consciously – or unconsciously – chosen a similar setting to hide himself from the world.

“Should we go?” Ahsoka asked, and he nodded.

It was time.

************

“Think this is the place?”

They’d reached what appeared to be the end of the track. If it wasn’t for Greef’s clear instructions and coordinates, they would have gotten lost. Several times, they’d made a wrong turn somewhere and found themselves at a dead-end. There was no phone reception so they’d had to rely on Ahsoka’s ancient car GPS.

There stood a house. Well, house was perhaps an overstatement. It was a single story rectangular box. The walls were a mix of light colored wood panels and off-white smooth stucco. The flat roof had solar panels, antennas and a satellite dish. Grogu guessed it was completely off the grid. He could see a little vegetation poking here and there to help camouflage it some more. But that hidden away feel was completely ruined by the car parked just outside: a bright yellow vintage sports car.

“This is the place,” he answered Ahsoka’s question, certain.

They stopped on the side of the track, deeming it safer to walk the rest of the way just in case. Grogu’s legs felt like rubber as he mechanically put one foot in front of the other. This is the place. This is the place. This is the place.

“Looks like whoever lives here is on the way out,” she remarked. Too focused on calming his nerves by taking in slow breaths, sweaty palms balled into fists and eyes fixed on his threadbare sneakers, he hadn’t noticed that the trunk of the yellow car was open. Black plastic cases were already piled in the backseat. Sturdy, long cases he remembered very well, including what they held.

And then the front door of the house flew open, and out came a man armed with a rifle, ready to shoot. Ahsoka raised her arms slowly and said something Grogu didn’t hear because he had completely frozen. Fear and anticipation battling inside him to take precedence and preventing him from moving a muscle. The man was tall and broad, that was all he could see from that distance. As soon as the rifle was lowered though, he knew. Just as the man knew. And Grogu started breathing again.

He’d found him.

It only took his father a few strides to reach him, kneel on the floor, and grip his upper arms tightly in his large hands.

“Are you alright?” he asked urgently, the brown eyes which were too soft for the lines on his face and the hard angle of his jaw searching his. His voice was deep and concerned, the same it had always been. The same it had always sounded to Grogu. His hair was longer than he remembered, though. Same brown as his eyes. Shaggy, and curling over the top of his T-shirt collar with a bit of new silver threaded in at the sides. His salt and pepper scruff couldn’t mask that his  face had thinned out, and some part of Grogu recognized that the last six years had been hard on him as well.

“Grogu?” he pressed, shaking him now, his grip almost painful, and the boy nodded mutely. His eyes were still taking everything in. Despite the man’s clear alarm, there was no hiding that warmth the boy had always seen on his face. A kindness that didn’t seem fake or put on to trick people intro trusting him.

“I’m okay,” he finally managed to say over the lump in his throat. And for the first time in a long time, he was telling the truth. His father nodded, but still his eyes wouldn’t leave his. Still his grip on his shoulders wouldn’t lessen.

“Skywalker called,” he explained, finally looking up towards Ahsoka. “Said the kid had run away but that you were trailing him. Then Kryze this morning. She mentioned Moff Gideon. They both wanted me to stay put in case you showed up, but I was about to come looking for you.” He angled his head towards his car, and the gun cases started making more sense.

“Luke has your number?” Grogu asked – that was a surprising piece of information.

“Of course he has my number,” his father replied with a frown.

“Can we come inside and talk?” Ahsoka suggested before Grogu had time to ask something else, as if she’d sensed they could be there a while, and his father stood up. He was just as tall as he remembered, which didn’t make sense after six years, but this was one of those things Grogu chose not to question. Same as with the look of resigned patience on his face, because it was the same look he often saw in the mirror.

The small house was sparsely furnished, but it was exactly like Grogu had imagined it: a mix of order and disorder that shouldn’t be possible, and yet worked perfectly. The tiny kitchen directly in front of them was neatly organized, dry food in glass jars on easily accessible shelves, plates and bowls piled just so above the fridge, and yet the counter had completely disappeared under several layers of newspapers, maps, drawings, notepads and empty coffee cups, making it impossible to sit down and eat there. The two bar stools were equally inaccessible, with carboard boxes precariously stacked on top of them.

On the left, the living room, visible through an archway, told a similar story. Bookcases, packed but efficiently arranged on the walls, sofa frayed but spotless, yet a chaotic assortment of knickknacks and abandoned projects on the coffee table. More empty cups. A disassembled rifle. Spare auto parts. Errant socks. Gadgets and electronic gizmos, either in the process of being upgraded or repaired. Doodles on the back of receipts. Like in the kitchen, the place wasn’t dirty. All the surfaces appeared to be clean. Which told Grogu that the layers of clutter were often cleared, before the whole process started again. Most likely when he ran out of coffee cups.

On the right were two closed doors, with more organized chaos on the other side of them he was sure. Visitors were probably a rare occurrence. Ahsoka smiled. His father sighed.

“Coffee?” he mumbled, quickly putting the carboard boxes sitting on the bar stools on the floor. He looked at the mess on the counter and realized there was no easy fix for that so gave up on the idea and walked behind it.

“Coffee sounds good,” Ahsoka agreed.

Grogu wanted to look at everything. Absorb each detail. But his eyes were still following his father’s every move, as if he’d disappear the second he looked away. He’d felt tangible relief at seeing the blue arrows on his hands earlier. They were still just as bright and just as striking. It looked like some of the other tattoos on his arms had gotten an upgrade, though. Same as with the ones he could just see peeking over the collar of his T-shirt. He hoped he’d get the opportunity to look at them more closely later, since each held a story. He remembered how his father had told him years ago how he’d use negative space to cover past tattoos. Past stories. Then create new ones. The blue arrows pointing forward on his hands had been his first tattoos, and the only ones using a color other than black. He’d stuck to black only afterwards since it didn’t require regular touch ups like the blue.

“Do you want some eggs?” his father interrupted his thoughts, and Grogu nodded, realizing he was starving. Ahsoka acquiesced as well. They’d been on the road for a while and it was midafternoon already.

“I’ll get some coffee too if you have milk,” he added and he saw surprise in his father’s eyes. The fact that he wasn’t six anymore was a difficult concept to wrap his mind around, something Grogu understood keenly.

“I have milk,” he confirmed.

“Place like this, I’d expect you to have a cow and some sheep. Goats. A llama. Chickens, too,” Ahsoka joked, sitting down atop one of the cleared stools.

“I’m not that self-sufficient,” his father smiled. “But I did think about it.”

“Sounds like a solid plan for retirement.”

“Yes. That and a vegetable patch. I’d be all set.”

Grogu looked at the two of them and wondered why they’d decided to banter. Had they even seen each other since Ahsoka turned him away at the institute five years ago? Was it because he was there and they didn’t want to broach difficult subjects in his presence? Was it to hide their anger?

“Bo-Katan certainly made it sound like you were considering voluntarily committing yourself to a nursing home,” Ahsoka added – this was of course an exaggeration, but Grogu had also heard the slight resentment in the other woman’s voice earlier that day.

“I’m not surprised,” his father chuckled. A sound that was rusty and almost foreign but not unwelcome. Grogu set his backpack at his feet and sat next to Ahsoka, his eyes following his dad’s every movement as he prepared coffee and made scrambled eggs on the wood stove.

“I’ll worry about Kryze later,” he sighed, handing them their cups and plates since there was nowhere to put them but on their own laps. “I’m sure she’s busy with Gideon anyway.” This he added with a small look in his direction, one that Grogu was sure meant they’d talk about it later. When he wasn’t around. He rolled his eyes but decided he was too hungry to get mad and ate his eggs, which turned out to be a precarious but enjoyable feat.

“You’re okay?” his father asked over the brim of his coffee cup, observing him from behind the counter – something Grogu hadn’t realized he’d been doing since he’d been too focused on his food. The simple question was loaded, but the boy nodded. Yes, he was feeling alright. Yes, he’d had enough food. Yes, he felt safe her. Yes, he trusted him to make things right again.

“I’m okay.”

“Gideon didn’t hurt you?”

“I saw him briefly when I left New York, never since, and he didn’t get the chance to hurt me,” he confirmed. He couldn’t believe how much easier it was to talk about it now that he was here. There was still fear, yes. But it didn’t feel like such a heavy weight anymore.

His father stared into his eyes, making sure he was telling the truth, nodded once, then turned towards Ahsoka. “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?”

“Sure,” she replied, standing up swiftly.

Grogu opened his mouth to complain, but his father gave him another look, one he remembered very well. “Feel free to look around but be careful with the guns.”

“Alright,” he grumbled, hoping that one word conveyed enough annoyance at being treated like a little kid. But he hadn’t missed the implications behind the man’s statement – he trusted him not to mess with his stuff. More than that, he trusted him with his precious weapons. He’d taught him about gun safety years ago and he still expected him to be careful now.

So Grogu let them have their talk outside – his dad hadn’t said anything specific about him not being allowed to take part in their conversation, but he’d give them a few minutes. He walked behind the counter to set his empty plate in the sink and let his eyes roam over the small kitchen. Everything looked a little worn but well cared for. He liked the fridge in particular: pale yellow and old-fashioned, the kind with a silver handle to pull open the door. He remembered the many pictures that had covered the one at Omera and Winta’s place. His father had only two things displayed on his: a shopping list in his surprisingly neat handwriting and a printed page with what looked like numbers on them. Grogu frowned and moved closer when he though he saw his name at the top of it.

This was his school report. Right there in black and white, the past semester’s grades for each of his classes and his standing. He was first in everything. Had Luke sent it to him? Had his father requested to see the reports? And kept up to date with his grades? Since when? The beginning?

Grogu didn’t know what to think. He felt part shock, part pride. And then he remembered the story Bo-Katan had told him that morning. That one time his father had mentioned him and said his kid was smarter than all of their crew put together. So maybe he’d been aware of his school progress all this time.

Still shaken, he decided to have a quick look behind the two closed doors he’d seen earlier. Maybe it would help him figure out what his father had been up to for the last six years. Behind the first door was a dark bedroom with a neatly made double bed pushed against a wall, a closed dresser he didn’t feel like snooping in, stacks of paperbacks in lieu of a bedside table, and a detailed star chart on the wall. Grogu traced some of the constellations he knew the name of with his finger. It was very soothing.

The last room seemed to be an office, with an old metallic desk against one wall with two laptops on it, and crammed bookcases on all the others. More electronic gadgets here and there, the ever present folded maps, a locked gun safe, and what looked like a CB radio. The one surprising thing about this room was the single bed under the window. Compared to everything else in this house, which was probably second or third-hand, it looked new. Sitting on it proved his assumption – it was extra comfortable, with a fluffy comforter and pillow. The bed sheets were a nice shade of blue and smelled like they’d recently been washed. With a pang of longing, Grogu realized that whoever got to sleep here was very lucky.

Done with feeling maudlin, he stood up, deciding he’d given his dad and Ahsoka enough time to talk on their own. He approached the porch slowly, but one of them had left the front door ajar, which made listening on their conversation easy. He didn’t feel like hiding though – he’d done that once already this morning, and he hadn’t liked the result. So he only caught the end of their exchange before he made his presence known.

“ – what I want has very little to do with whether he should or shouldn’t be here,” his dad said.

“You don’t want me to stay,” Grogu assumed immediately, interrupting whatever Ahsoka had meant to add.

“That is not what I said,” he replied levelly, any trace of guilt absent.

“Then what did you say?” he pushed, feeling another wave of exhaustion crash over him. He couldn’t stop thinking about that bed in the room next door. That comfortable bed that should be his but wasn’t.

“I told Ahsoka that since Skywalker isn’t fulfilling his role anymore, I will, and I won’t fail.”

“What role?”

“Making sure you’re safe.”

Ahsoka sighed and crossed her arms. She seemed displeased about something, but Grogu didn’t care right now. Couldn’t focus on what she was feeling. This moment was too important. He’d rehearsed it in his mind countless times.

“So I can stay?”

The answer took a while. “Until Gideon is caught, yes.”

Grogu held his breath. He looked into his father’s eyes. The moment stretched, but no one moved. No one blinked. No one flinched. The brown eyes remained steady.

“Okay,” the boy said.

Until Gideon was caught. That was plenty of time to convince him.

#the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin #ahsoka tano #fanfic #star wars #mandalorian #modern au #angst with a happy ending #found family #my fics

[ris-multi-fandom]

Day 9 of Housevember22!

Fandom: House MD

Pairings: Gregory House x James Wilson

Characters: Gregory House, James Wilson, Original male character.

9th November: A blast from the past.

Wilson walked through the cafeteria one Wednesday morning, trying to find a table to sit at with his cup of coffee and bacon sandwich. He was so distracted searching for somewhere to sit that he didn’t see a man standing in front of him until he walked straight into his back, almost dropping his cup of coffee.

”I am so sorry,” he immediately apologised to the man who turned to face him, “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I-“

”James?” The man questioned when he spotted him, Wilson looked at the guy’s face, he recognised him but couldn’t quite place where, “James Wilson is that really you?” Suddenly it clicked in his mind.

”Henry?” He queried, “Henry Gibson? I haven’t seen you since-“

”Since we were lab partners in freshman year,” Henry chuckled, “you haven’t changed a bit.”

”You have,” Wilson commented, “last I remember you were stick thin, had glasses and you were shorter than me and now-“ he looked up at the other man who stood about three of four inches above him, he had dark brown hair, kind eyes, a gorgeous smile and a lean build.

”Yeah I may have grown a little since then,” he joked.

”What happened with you? You were at school one day then the next you wasn’t,” Wilson questioned.

”My dad was killed in action in Iraq, my mom was devastated and we ended up moving in with my grandmother in New York,” Henry explained.

”I’m sorry to hear that,” Wilson replied, “I guess I can excuse you for not handing in your part of our project then,” Henry chuckled at this.

”I see you’ve got yourself some breakfast, mind if I join you?”

”Of course,” Wilson said, a table nearby had cleared so they quickly sat down before anyone else could, “so what are you doing here?”

“My nephew’s here, he was diagnosed with leukaemia about a month ago, I’d heard the oncology department here was good so I thought I’d come check it out,” Henry told him.

”Well I should hope the oncology department is good, I run it,” Wilson replied.

”Really?” Henry asked, “I have no doubt that it’s brilliant now then, you were the smartest kid in our grade,” Wilson blushed slightly at this.

”I wouldn’t say I was the smartest,” he said.

”No you were, it’s one of the reasons that I was glad we were lab partners,” Henry told him.

”One of the reasons?” Wilson questioned.

”Well, there was also the fact that you were the type of guy who made girls swoon and make guys envious, just being lab partners with you gave me street cred,” Henry joked.

”That’s not true.”

”It was,” he insisted, “there was a reason you were nick named ‘pretty boy’”

“No one ever called me that,” Wilson replied.

”Never to your face,” Henry chuckled and Wilson blushed again.

”So what’s your nephew’s name? I might know who his doctor is,” Wilson changed the subject, not wanting to keep talking about himself.

”Joseph,” Henry said, Wilson pulled his phone out, looking over his department’s schedules.

”He’s my first patient,” Wilson told him, “where is he now?” He asked.

”We got here really early so a nurse said he could play video games in the paediatric department, I just stepped out for a coffee,” Henry explained.

”Is his mom not with him?” Wilson had finished his breakfast at this point and was working on his coffee.

”No, her work wouldn’t give her enough time off so I said I’d bring him here.”

“That’s nice of you,” Wilson commented.

”It’s the least I could do, he’s a good kid,” Henry said. Wilson finished his coffee before looking down at his watch.

“Well I better head off, I need to go see a colleague before your nephew’s appointment,” he told him, “but I’ll see you soon.”

”Okay,” Henry smiled at him, “see you soon.”

————

“Cuddy wanted me to give you this,” Wilson said as he entered House’s office, he chucked some files down on the desk and went to leave.

”Really? No comments about the fact that I filled out all my paperwork with ‘I did medical stuff?’” House asked and Wilson turned to face him.

”Really House,” he said, “why would you do that?”

”To annoy Cuddy, but that’s not the point, you didn’t look in the files and you’re in a rush to leave,” House looked at him skeptically, “something’s on your mind and you don’t want to tell me about it.”

”Nothing’s on my mind House, I didn’t look in the files because they’re not mine and I’m in a rush because I have a patient to go see,” Wilson said.

”Who is she?” House asked.

”Who is who?” Wilson asked.

”Whoever you ran into this morning that you now can’t stop thinking about,” House deduced.

”I ran into an old school friend and I’m thinking of him because his nephew is my next patient,” Wilson retorted, he held strong against House’s scrutinising gaze and House suddenly looked away from him at something on his desk.

”Okay,” House said.

”Okay?” Wilson questioned.

”Okay,” House repeated.

”Okay,” Wilson said, in a way that showed he was suspicious of House, he opened the door, knowing this wasn’t the end of the conversation, and left.

————

“I’m going to be honest with you,” Wilson told Henry, as they watched a five year old Joseph playing with some toys in the corner of Wilson’s office, “his cancer is advanced but the chances of him surviving are fairly good, he can start chemo in a few days, then have some radiation treatments, if all goes well he could be cancer free before long.”

”That’s great!” Henry exclaimed, “you hear that Joey? This doctor is going to make you all better,” he picked up the young boy who just smiled at Wilson, “That’s his way of thanking you, he’s non-verbal, but that doesn’t stop him, he’s going to take over the world one day.”

”Well hopefully we’ll get him feeling better soon so he can get back to that,” Wilson smiled, holding his hand up for a high five from the boy.

”You’re good with kids, do you have any of your own?” Henry asked.

”No,” Wilson replied, “I haven’t found the right person to settle down with yet.”

”Yeah me neither,” Henry said, “so you not seeing anyone then?”

”Not at the moment, I have been married three times but now I’m starting to wonder if I’m just not meant to ever be with a woman,” Wilson joked.

”Yeah, I don’t have much luck with women either,” Henry chuckled, “anyway I should probably get this little guy home, he has some homework to get done but I promised him that we’d make some brownies for his mom first.”

”Well, that sounds like you’ve got a busy day ahead of you,” Wilson said and stood up, he held the door open for the taller man who thanked him as he left. Wilson was about to close the door when Henry turned around and spoke to him.

”How would you like to get dinner with me sometime?” He asked, taking Wilson aback, “you know, we could catch up properly.”

”Yeah,” Wilson agreed, “yeah, that sounds good.”

”Great,” Henry smiled at him, “how about Friday?”

“Sounds good to me,” Wilson replied, the taller man gave him another smile before heading to the elevator. Wilson watched him go then jumped when he heard a voice behind him.

”So what are you going to wear for your date?” House asked.

”Stop sneaking into my office from the balcony,” Wilson grumbled, walking over to his desk and sitting down.

”You’d have seen me coming if I’d come from the hallway,” House commented, “then I wouldn’t have been able to overhear your conversation,” he hobbled over to the desk and sat down across from his friend.

”What do you want House?” He asked.

”Nothing really, just wanted to check out this guy you seem to be falling for,” House replied.

”I’m not falling for him,” Wilson stated, “we’re just having a catch up since we haven’t seen each other since school.”

”Good,” House said, “because something seems off about him.”

”You say that about everyone I date,” Wilson replied then shut his eyes when he realised what he’d said.

”So you admit that you do want to date him?” House asked.

”I don’t know,” Wilson admitted, “maybe,” he ran a hand down his face, “I knew I liked guys as long as I could remember but I don’t really have much experience with them, I dabbled a bit in college but, I don’t know, he seems nice, he’s handsome, he looks out for his family, why not date him?”

”Well for a start something seems off about him,” House said.

”What seems off about him House? Because from what I’ve seen he seems like the perfect guy,” Wilson argued.

”Almost too perfect,” House replied.

”Are you sure it isn’t just that you’re jealous because I might have a date on Friday and you’re in a relationship with your sock,” Wilson retorted.

”Ouch,” House said, “no need to get so defensive Wilson.”

”Look, I may have a shot at something good here House, don’t start messing around with it,” Wilson pleaded.

”Fine I won’t,” House replied.

”Promise?” Wilson asked.

”C’mon Wilson, we’re not children,” Wilson gave him a look and he sighed, “I promise.”

”Thank you.”

————

Friday

Wilson closed the file on his desk and headed out of his office, turning the lights off and locking the door, as he turned around he found himself face to face with House.

“Can I help you?” He asked as he stepped round the man and walked towards the elevator.

”You have your date tonight,” House stated.

”I do,” Wilson agreed, pushing the button on the wall.

“You nervous?” House asked, stepping into the metal box when the doors opened.

”I’m fine,” Wilson replied, following him in.

”Where you going?”

“I’m not going to tell you that, you’ll show up there,” Wilson told him.

”Fine,” House said, “are you meeting him there or is he picking you up?”

“He’s picking me up,” Wilson answered, stepping off the elevator when the doors opened on the ground floor, “now is twenty questions going to continue or can I go home now?”

”No more questions,” House stated, “I was just going to say to message when you get home, I would rather not have to stay up all night worrying that you were lying in a grave in the middle of a forest somewhere,” Wilson rolled his eyes at him before walking out the front entrance of the hospital and heading to his car.

————

“I’ve had a good time tonight,” Henry said as he and Wilson got to the front door of Wilson’s apartment.

”Me too,” Wilson smiled, “you didn’t have to walk me to my door though.”

”There’s no other way to end a date,” Henry smiled.

”So this was a date then?” Wilson questioned, looking up at the taller man.

”I hope so,” Henry replied, “otherwise it would be strange for me to do this,” Henry placed a hand on Wilson’s cheek and brought his head down to plant a soft kiss on Wilson’s lips. The other man brought his hands up to rest on Henry’s chest as the kiss deepened.

“Did you want to come in for a drink or something?” Wilson asked when they separated.

”I’ve actually got to get back,” Henry told him, “I have to be up early tomorrow, but we should go out again soon.”

”Definitely,” Wilson replied, “hopefully I’ll see you at the hospital on Monday, Joseph starts his chemo then right?”

”Yeah,” Henry said, “maybe I could stop by your office afterwards and bring you a coffee.”

”Sounds like a plan,” Wilson smiled, he pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, “See you on Monday.”

”See you then,” Henry replied, Wilson gave him a quick kiss on the lips before opening the door. Henry backed away from the door, giving Wilson a little wave as he headed back to his car.

Wilson couldn’t stop grinning when he shut the door, he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Date went well and I’ve made it home so you can go to bed now mom! He sent to House.

It’s past your curfew young man! You’re grounded! He received back, he chuckled slightly before sticking his phone on charge and heading for bed.

————

Monday

Wilson walked through the entrance to the hospital with a smile on his face. He headed over to the elevator, saying hello to all his work colleagues as he passed, he whistled to himself while the metal box took him to his floor and as he opened the door to his office his smile faded. House was sitting on his couch waiting for him.

”We need to talk,” House said.

”If you’re wanting a divorce can I at least keep the Rolling Stones vinyl records?” He joked.

”This is serious,” House replied, causing Wilson to become concerned, “it’s about Henry.”

“For God’s sake House, you promised you wouldn’t meddle,” Wilson said.

”I had my fingers crossed, but that’s not the point,” House stated, he pulled a piece of paper out of a file he had sat next to him and passed it to Wilson. The oncologist looked it over, a surprised look on his face.

”What? I don’t understand,” he said, the piece of paper was a missing person’s poster, he showed a picture of Joseph except the name said ‘Tyler’

”Henry Gibson is wanted for kidnapping his nephew,” House said. Wilson looked over the piece of paper before screwing it up.

”You’re messing with me,” he replied.

”There’s more,” House told him, “while you were on your date with Henry I broke into his home.”

”Is that why you wanted me to text you when he dropped me off?” Wilson asked “dammit House, why can’t you just let me have some bit of happine-“

”Shut up Wilson,” House cut in, “when I got there I thought I could find something small to mess with him or you, instead I found his 5 year old nephew shut in a room on his own,” Wilson stared into House’s eyes, looking for any sign that he was lying.

“We were out for like three hours, please tell me that kid wasn’t left there on his own that whole time,” he said.

”Relax, I stayed with him, I even got him a snack,” House assured him, “when you texted me I kept checking out the window, when I saw him pull in to the drive I snuck out the back door.”

”So you mean to tell me that he kidnapped his nephew and keeps him locked in his bedroom while he’s out?” Wilson questioned, unable to believe what he was hearing.

”That’s another thing,” House said, pulling another piece of paper out of the file and handing it to Wilson. Wilson looked it over, it was a DNA test.

”He’s his son, not his nephew!” Wilson exclaimed.

”Wrong,” House replied, “he’s his son and his nephew,” Wilson looked over the piece of paper again.

”Oh my God,” Wilson whispered, suddenly feeling sick.

”Yeah,” House said, “your new boyfriend had sex with his sister and created his nephson,” Wilson walked around to the other side of his desk and slowly sank down into his chair, “apparently he found out that the kid was his and not his sister’s boyfriend. He then kidnapped the boy and brought him here, the place he’s living in is under a different name, when I looked the guy who’s house it was had been missing for a week, they found his body this morning but Henry had already cleared out of the house. This guy you knew in school is an incestuous murderer and a kidnapper, I imagine that once he’s finished with his kid’s chemo today you two were going to meet up, then he’d see if you were free tonight for dinner and then that’s when he’d kill you, bury your body in the woods and camp out in your house for a bit.”

“I still think you’re messing with me,” Wilson said, but House could tell he was doubting that.

“Come with me,” House said, standing up and leaving the room, Wilson following behind.

They walked through the hospital and found themselves outside of the oncology department. Wilson could see police officers through the window and as he stepped in he could hear Henry yelling.

“He’s my son! She had no right to hide that from me!” He shouted as the police handcuffed him, he looked up and saw Wilson standing there, “James! James, you’ve got to do something, help me, they’ve made a mistake!” Wilson walked over to him.

”You’re a sick man,” he said, before turning around and walking away. The police dragged him out of the room and Wilson could still hear him yelling down the corridor.

————

House found Wilson that evening standing in the balcony and looking out over the city. He walked over to the edge and looked out too.

”You were right you know,” House told him.

”About what?” Wilson asked, “I thought Henry was a nice guy.”

”You also thought he was a family man, guess that was true,” House commented, causing Wilson to scoff, “but that’s not what I meant,” Wilson turned to look at House when he felt the other man’s eyes on him, “I was jealous,” he admitted, Wilson looked into his eyes at this, House was strangely vulnerable in that moment and Wilson wasn’t used to seeing this side of him.

”You’ll find someone eventually House,” he told him, looking back out at the setting sun “maybe I’ll even find someone too.”

”That’s not what I meant,” House said and Wilson looked over at him again, “I was jealous because he was taking you on a date and I wasn’t,” Wilson was shocked at this revelation, he looked down at his hands, lost in his thoughts and House found himself getting worried that he’d just messed up his friendship.

”Do you want to go get dinner tomorrow?” Wilson asked, facing his friend, a smirk on his face.

”I think I’m free,” House grinned back. The two men smiled at each other again before looking back out at the sunset.

#hilson #hate crimes md #house md #hilson fanfiction #greg house #gregory house #james wilson #house x wilson #housevember22

[minetteskvareninova]

Minette watches Medici, part 11 (Obstacles And Opportunities)

- Look, I don’t mind episodes of this show having basic ass titles, but this one is... Just far bellow basic, if you know what I mean.

- A small, but still embarassing correction - there’s no Lucrezia M in this show so far, that was the other sister of Lorenzo the Magnificent, that was married off very young, which is presumably why she’s not in the show. Fahriye-sultan-but-lame is named Bianca.

- My suspicions about Lorenzo being the bestest, smartest, specialest little boy in the writers’ eyes were unfortunately not disproven in the slightest. For Lorenzo, nothing is a problem, he never makes big mistakes and has no major flaws. Like, his Gary Stu status becomes obvious trough comparison to Cosimo, who was allowed to make much bigger mistakes and lose much more badly, making for a more compelling character. And while there were hints of the Medici maintaining the moral high ground over their opponents, this season amps this up to a truly ridiculous degree. I mean, “making Florence a true republic” is an interesting way of putting “becoming a populist autocrat akin to Julius Caesar”.

- That said, I don’t hate the love triangle so far. Clarice and Lorenzo still have nothing in common and don’t even really know each other, but Lucrezia D’s “I feel protective of her” gives me hope for a decent polycule, in my delusional headcanons if not in practice. The instant consummation of their marriage made me rise my eyebrows, especially after Lorenzo passed the opportunity to be a gentleman (yes, in a somewhat anachronistic way, but still less absurd than the Bianca subplot - see bellow). Then again, he IS riddiculously attractive, enough to drive even a repressed renessaince virgin who probably barely knows what sex is mad with lust, so I’ll allow it. Still, the chemistry between Lorenzo and his new bride is still very much not there.

- Speaking of shitty romantic subplots! It really doesn’t help my enjoyment of the show that hurrempilled ever so graciously reminded me of the existence of Bali/Armin “romance”. Tsundere girl x presumptuous fuckboy is truly the worst romance trope in existence, which may be why Giuliano went in this episode from mildly to severely annoying. Poor Simonetta also has two other options, apparently - an equally presumptuous simp and her older, but reasonably attractive and only a little bit douchey (not nearly comparable to Giuliano, I’ll tell you that) husband. My money is on the husband.

- The Bianca subplot finally got interesting, but only at the price of becoming a thousand times stupider. Okay, them realizing there’s no way their families will reconcile anytime soon and eloping was stupid in an understandable way. Their reactions, though... First off, even if Lorenzo was eventually able to forgive Bianca and didn’t force her to join the monastery ASAP, he would be much more pissed off than that. There is no goddamn reason for old Pazzi to be angrier at his nephew than Lorenzo at Bianca - and don’t give me that “Gugliermo’s honor was threatened too”, because IT WASN’T. Of course it would be much worse and more embarassing for Bianca and her family! She’s a woman! Promised to another man and still supposed to be a virgin! Lorenzo should be negotiating with old Pazzi with tail between his legs, but I guess we couldn’t do that to our precious golden boy, so the show doesn’t make it entirely clear just how big of a leverage old Pazzi has over his family.

- Well, at least he’s forced to make some real concessions, like give up his leverage over old Pazzi, which is to say blocking Salviati from Pisa. But that’s still kinda dumb, because it’s not made clear how can Lorenzo boss the Pisans around, to the point they would close the gates to their own archbishop for him. Like, the real Lorenzo could presumably count on having, like, some high-ranking magistrates there being in debt to his bank, but the show doesn’t bother explaining it. The fact that politics in Rome are simplified to the point of farce is also a bit stupid, like, it’s almost as if there were sum total of three cardinals including Salviati in the entire city of Rome, plus one priest of unspecified rank i.e. uncle Carlo.

- I sincerely hope Lorenzo giving up all gains from the deal with Milan to Bianca’s spurned groom will have some major consequences down the line for the Medici bank, or so help me God... Like, at this point they extended Galeazzo’s loan and got fuck all out of it in the long run, this should be a major hit for the bank!

- And don’t think I’ve forgotten about the subtle foreshadowing that Galeazzo is untrustworthy, because that was truly an eyeroll worthy of Shadow And Bone season 2. Again, I hope this will come back later when Lorenzo will consider turning on Galeazzo somehow, but I am not getting my hopes up on the show being that smart. I mean, Giuliano knowing about Bianca and Gugliermo’s whole deal also didn’t go anywhere. Like, c’mon, people, have some imagination! Magnificent Century would milk the shit out this stuff!

- The crowning moment of stupid in this episode was Francesco de’ Pazzi turning on his uncle, because... He turned on Gugliermo for the whole marriage to Bianca?! Which, fine, Francesco siding with his brother over his uncle is whatever, but to side with the MEDICI for this?! I call incredible bullshit on that.

- This was just straight up not a great episode. It had its moments, but overall the amount of stupid stuff on display in this one lets down the entire show.

#medici: the magnificent #minette watches medici

[drunkjaked]

OBLIVIOUS ft lee heeseung

perv hee.. + smut w a ‘plot’ from me??? + 4156 words

be gentle w me please <333 full fic ver of this blurb type thing idk whatever, ty for sending an ask abt this bae - u know urself 🫶

Thoughtful and quiet, Lee Heeseung was the sweetest boy you had ever met. And probably the smartest too. 

He typically only made an appearance during lectures and was nowhere to be found for the rest of the week. 

Until Park Sunghoon’s party. 

Seeing Heeseung with Sunghoon’s crowd was interesting, he was completely different to the way he was in class. Party Heeseung was chatty, and made everyone around him laugh. 

Though his shyness wasn’t completely gone - clear in the way he’d look around the circle after saying something, just to see if people actually thought it was funny - there was a certain.. sexiness to the Heeseung you saw standing in the kitchen. 

(It became immediately clear that ‘Sunghoon’s’ crowd may actually be Heeseung’s crowd given the way that Jake Sim looked at him with wide, excited eyes - hanging onto every word he said.) 

He held a lollipop between his lips, cheek swollen with the way it sat in his mouth. Pulling it out with a pop every time he had something to say. His lips were cute, pouty, red - though you couldn’t tell if that was natural or due to the artificially coloured candy between them. 

Roped into the role of designated driver, you weren’t exactly enjoying the party you were at. Completely sober and all too aware of your surroundings. 

Though completely blind to the way Heeseung had been looking around every room he was in to spot you, often leaving after you just to be near you. Or, near enough. 

The night’s chill greeted you as soon as you pulled the backdoor open, and it was completely still outside. Taking a seat at the garden table, you pulled your phone out of your pocket to text the group chat and let them know where you were, sighing as you read the time.

23:24. Still on the wrong side of the evening. 

Too wrapped up in your own sobriety to hear the door open or even take notice of the figure who’d joined you, you jumped in your seat. Hand clutching your chest when you saw Heeseung standing by the chair next to yours. 

“You okay?” His voice was sickly sweet. 

You nodded. 

Heeseung nodded too. 

In the dim light of the backyard, you were shameless in your ogling. Eyes trailing over his body more than once. Really, really taking in the way he looked in his cropped jacket, the way his legs seemed to go on forever in his black jeans. 

“You can,” you swallowed. “You can sit if you want.” You finally said, having to drag your eyes off of him, finding interest in the cup in his hand instead. 

His hand. His fingers. Long. Thick. 

He laughed through his nose, placing his cup on the table and taking a seat. 

“Heeseung.” You said, though your voice came out soft, he wasn’t supposed to hear it. 

He did, though he almost couldn't believe that you knew his name. 

And the sound went straight to his cock, jeans becoming tighter around the crotch and he cleared his throat as he adjusted the way he was sitting. “Hmm?”

You shook your head. “I just like your name.” Reaaaal smooth.

“I like the way you say my name.” 

Heeseung used a thick finger to push his glasses up, looking quickly over his shoulder before turning his attention back to you. Had his side profile always been so angelic? 

“I didn’t know you knew Sunghoon.” He said, though his voice made it seem like a question, lilting up towards the end. 

You grinned at this. “I didn’t know you knew Sunghoon.” 

He shrugged. “I’m sure there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” 

“What do you mean by that?” Your head tilted to the side, eyes pushing into a slight squint. 

A breathy laugh slipped from him and an adorable smile spread on his lips that took over his entire face. He lifted his cup to his mouth after a while, watching you over the rim. Wiggling his brows and laughing when you did. Because you did.

“You want some?” 

You swallowed thickly, eyes locked on his fingers. Again. A nod. 

Heeseung ignored your hand as you reached out for the cup, instead bringing it to your lips for you. His free hand rested on the nape of your neck, as he poured the drink into your mouth. 

With driving home on your mind, you were quick to tap out. Though mostly you were overwhelmed by the heat of his hand on your skin. The slight smirk set on his pretty lips. 

You couldn’t tell what you found more surprising - his boldness or the fact that he was drinking. 

For a while, you watched him turn his cup on the table. Oblivious to the fact that his eyes were trained on its rim, desperately waiting for the light to catch your lip gloss so he could put his lips directly over the spot where yours had been. 

His cock ached in his pants when he found it. Sweet and sticky vanilla flavoured gloss grazing his lips, his tongue. More than he needed to breathe, he needed to kiss you. Craved it. 

Heeseung was thankful for the low light and the table that hid his crotch. 

He spent a lot of your conversation licking his lips, suppressing moans at the taste of you and peach schnapps on his tongue. 

You weren’t sure if you’d ever laughed so much, clutching your stomach while it ached from chuckling. His charm was palpable and you were beginning to understand Jake’s adoration. 

The two of you chatted about nothing for an hour or so before Jay Park came rushing out, pretty brows pulled together with a crease, insisting that there was an emergency and Heeseung was needed upstairs ASAP. 

He frowned a little at the news, though he was quick to perk up when you told him that you’d talk soon, okay? 

Heeseung’s hug was longer than you’d been expecting, though nice nonetheless. And if you’d been paying more attention to anything other than the way his arms felt around you - you might have picked up on the way his nose nuzzled into your hair. The way he sniffed it. Inhaled like his life depended on it. 

The way your eyes flicked back and forth between his eyes and his lips when he let go of you couldn’t have been unintentional. Right? But he was just a little too drunk to distinguish real life from fantasy, though not quite drunk enough to have the confidence to kiss you. 

You did your best to hide your disappointment.

Conscious of the sound leaking from your earphones, you turned the volume down on your phone before entering the class. Eyes glued to the floor as you made your wa-A voice sliced through your music. 

Sweet. Shy. Heeseung. He mumbled your name softly, as if unsure of your name or if it was even you at all.

The smile on your face was immediate. “Hey.” 

He wore a smile to match yours, clearing his throat before saying: I saved a seat for you, and lifting his bag from the seat to his right. 

Of course he was handsome - that much you knew. But it was only in the lighting of the lecture hall that you were able to get a good look at him. Black hair sitting flat against his forehead. Brown eyes, wide behind his wire glasses. Lips lacking the red that had coloured them on Saturday night. 

The more time you spent observing him, the more the smile on his face began to fall. All confidence, self-assurance, gone like it never existed. A tiny quirk in his sweet lips being the only thing left when you decided to take him up on his offer. 

Unsurprisingly, Heeseung didn’t have very much to say to you, linking and unlinking his hands on the desk. His cute lips parting and then sealing shut again as if the words were dying in transit from his brain to his mouth. 

You didn’t realise he was distracted by the way your nipples push against your thin shirt. 

Both of you were thankful for the lecturer’s arrival, a stack of papers clutched firmly in her hand that she wasted no time in distributing. 

And there was a pit in your stomach when your essay was returned to you face down, a blank sheet of paper and the back of a staple staring up at you from the desk. Mocking you. 

To your left, Heeseung’s essay sat like a trophy. Text justified, and a glaring 20/20 written and circled in red pen. This is excellent, Heeseung! scrawled underneath as if to add insult to injury. Though he was too busy sending a text to his mother to take notice of your grade. 

As soon as he sent the text he looked over at your paper, immediately putting his phone down to cover his own mark. Cheeks heating up when you leaned in to whisper, good job. The hair standing up on his neck where your breath fanned his skin. 

This is when he knew you’d be a problem. 

The 7/20 on your own essay, combined with the see me after class written under the last paragraph were enough to make you wince - and Heeseung’s cock ached in his pants, hard immediately from the tiny sound. Though you were too wrapped up in your bad grade to notice the way he shifted in his seat, untucking his shirt to cover the bulge in his jeans.

“Do you think you could tutor me?” 

He nodded.

A few months of tutoring seemed to be enough to have you hot for tutor, and also bring your score up from a 7 to a 19/20. You squealed and hugged him in class when you saw your grade. 

Heeseung had to hide the bulge in his jeans again. 

He’d found himself doing that a lot over the time he’d spent tutoring you and was sad to see it come to an en-We should grab coffee after class. You whispered to him, your hand resting casually on his thigh. “You know, to celebrate.” He wondered if you could feel the way his skin was burning under his pants.

Coffee very quickly became dinner, then drinks, then lips on lips, hands in hair. Giggles passed between mouths, and a mumbled please touch me. You wasted no time obliging, hand soft on his pretty cock. Tip red, glossy. 

Heeseung finished quickly too, making a mess of your mouth and chin. And after stretching out the cunt he’d been dreaming of, he came even quicker, hot cum covering your stomach. He very nearly came again at the sight of you collecting some of it on your finger, bringing it to your mouth. You hummed around it. Good boy, you praised. 

As if something clicked in his brain, it became his mission to hear it again. Heeseung’s sweet lips pulled your clit into his mouth, pausing to inhale your scent. Your shared scent. 

The next few weeks were much the same, though you’d found that less and less alcohol was required. And more and more time was spent with his head on your chest. His girlfriend’s tit in his mouth. 

Heeseung’s move was gradual. Natural. He already had a drawer with some of his stuff in it. A toothbrush in your (shared) bathroom. His favourite mug in your (shared) cabinet. A box of LEGOs in your (shared) living room that he’d been saving for a rainy day. 

The two of you spent your weekends drinking with his friends (Our friends according to him), he wasn’t as shy then, acting out a little in hopes of being punished at home. And spent weekdays in the library studying after class. Well, Heeseung was studying. And you would watch. And Heeseung would blush. 

It proved to be kind of perfect seeing as Heeseung insisted on doing the laundry - and still insists after a year and a half. His kiss is sweet as ever, pouty lips so soft on your own. Hands less curious, more desperate. Eyes still wide, though (somehow) they hold more stars. His balls sensitive, cute. 

He squirms on the bed when you hold them in your mouth, crying out that it’s too much when your hand jerks him off at the same time. Despite his cries, he insists that he’s green and he grips the sheets until his knuckles turn white. 

You’re generous with the kisses you leave on his dick. Starting from the base, leaving a trail of wet pecks all the way to his head. Lips wrapping around his tip as you suck on it. Tongue swiping the underside and darting across his slit. 

Your cheeks hollow as you take him in. As much as you can manage, anyway. Though it doesn’t stop his hips bucking up from the bed, cock pushing until you gag. A strangled sorry falling out. Sweet boy. 

Throat aching slightly, you take him out of your mouth. From between his legs, he looks so sweet, so precious. Lips parted, plump from kissing, biting. His perfect hips rock into your hand, and you can feel a pulse between your thighs just watching him. 

Heeseung is a mess under your touch. Breath laboured. Moans ripping through the room. It’s obvious that he’s close with the way his body starts to tremble. Stomach contra-“Why?” He whines at the sudden loss of contact. 

No, no, no, no, falls from his sweet mouth in strings as he watches you stand up from the floor in front of him. Eyes impossibly wide as he mumbles please and I’m sorry, over and over in an effort to get you to sit back down. 

You don’t.

His back is warm against your chest, skin damp with sweat. Waist slim between your arms as you reach around the back of him, sandwiching his thighs with your own. 

“What are yo-” His question is cut off by a gasp. Your fingers are soft on his nipple, rolling the skin between them. Pinching. Pulling.

Despite how much he thinks about you, he’d never once thought of this. Had never even considered how good it might feel to have your tits pressed to his back while you play with him however you like. Your breath on his neck. 

The sensation is overwhelming for him, and his breath comes out in long puffs. Chest rising and falling heavily as he stutters through the word close, his hand gripping harshly at your thigh. Fingernails digging into the soft skin. 

“Whenever you’re ready, baby.” You coo, and he huffs a sigh in response, rolling his hips against your touch. 

His other hand is big on the back of your own as he presses it flat to his chest, trembling in your hold. You use your thumb to rub his nipple and he sinks into you. Pressing on his toes to push himself back as if he wants to merge with you - become one. 

Heeseung’s thighs tense between yours, and he shudders a little, head falling back briefly, hair tickling your shoulder. He squeals at the way your other hand strokes his length, wrist loose as you jerk him off. Just the way he likes, you give the most attention to his tip, squeezing and twisting at the skin there, all while his back arches away from your chest. 

He writhes against your body, an oh coming out of him when your hand trails from his nipple to his balls, holding them in your hands. Massaging them. “You like it?” You ask, leaving a kiss on the column of his neck. Sucking a mark onto his skin. 

All he can bring himself to do is nod in response. 

Your lips are soft on the spot behind his ear. Teeth skating over its shell. Voice a whisper when you tell him to be a good boy and cum for me. And seemingly on command, Heeseung’s cock twitches in your hold, his balls contracting and relaxing. 

With a sob, he paints your hands white, his release hot, sticky, all for you - and the feeling is enough to (further) dampen your underwear. Your own arousal forcing the fabric to cling to you. You leave him no time to calm down, strokes only quickening. And he thinks the sensation may kill him. Slick. Hot. Tight.

The hand that played with his pretty balls slides up to hold him just beneath his head, finger trailing up the underside of his cock, and his tip is so slick against the palm of your other hand when they make contact. 

Heeseung cries out, entire body squirming at the feeling. “Sto-fuck.” He whimpers, sniffling a little. “Please.” Hot tears slip from his eyes as he screws them shut. Grip on your thigh faltering. Though, again, he promises his colour is green when you ask him. 

Your hand closes over his head, rubbing him while he thrashes between your legs. Pornographic moans falling out of him, each one louder and higher in pitch than the last. You alternate between this and jerking him off with both hands. 

“You’re so sweet, baby.” You coo, grinning when he cums for the second time. “Always so good for me.” 

The praise makes his cock twitch. If you notice, you don’t say anything. 

As always, the weekend comes and goes quicker than he realises, and after spending the day doing laundry, Heeseung falls asleep with his head on your chest, your hands playing with his hair. 

He hates waking up without you, a frown on his face as he takes notice of your absence. Though he supposes he should at least be thankful for the fact that your scent still lingers on the linen. 

Rolling onto his stomach, Heeseung lays with his face in your pillow. Hips rocking against the mattress. Your scent is everywhere, it’s everything, and with his eyes closed it’s almost like you’re still in the bed with him. A long groan falls from his mouth and into the pillow, muffled by the fabric. And he reluctantly stills his motion when he hears a door close somewhere in the apartment. You’re - still - home!

Still home and wearing his shirt as you walk around the kitchen. Your arms stretch above your head as you groan. Hem of the white garment rising, though not quite high enough for your ass to peek out. Which is a shame, he thinks.

Heeseung wastes no time wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling your back flush with his torso. Leaning down to leave a sweet kiss on your cheek. “Good morning.” He mumbles, lingering slightly. Distracted by the way his and your scents mix on your body. It goes straight to his dick and he’s hard instantly, grinding against the curve of your ass.

“I don’t wanna be late for class.” You whisper, letting your head rest on his chest.  

Heeseung holds your tit through your - his - shirt. Eyes falling shut as he squeezes it. So soft, he whines.

“Baby.” 

“Hmm?”

Your voice lacks its usual conviction when you tell him later, your hips moving against his. Hand his hand down your body. Past the hem of the shirt. You guide him to the spot between your legs. 

Heeseung sighs, when he feels you. Feels how wet you are. Because of him. His chest swells with pride at the way your breath catches in your throat. And he thinks this might be better than any breakfast he’s ever had.

You don't normally look inside your underwear drawer, often just reaching in and putting on whatever you grab. Though today, the drawer feels unusually empty - and being a Monday, you can’t help the curiosity that overtakes you because laundry day was only yesterday. 

And, like always, you find everything you’d put in the hamper clean and folded away or hung up where it belongs. Except from your panties, apparently. But there’s no time to investigate.

You spend the whole day in class wondering if your boyfriend is throwing out your underwear in an attempt to get you to try going commando as he’s suggested. More than once. 

In a not so rare instance, Heeseung finds himself thankful that you’re gone, fishing the black lace you’d been wearing the other day from his pocket, and his cock is rock hard against his sweatpants. 

The material is soft on the skin of his face, and he can’t help but bury his nose in the fabric. It’s like you’re there with him. Wet pussy over his face. Just a breath away. 

He tugs his sweatpants down, palming himself lightly through his boxers. A smile gracing his lips at the feeling of the slight stiff patch in the fabric. There’s a knot in his stomach when he takes a sharp inhale, and he already knows he won’t last long. 

When he pulls his own underwear down, his cock smacks his belly - precum leaving a trail against the toned skin. His index finger slips around in the small mess he’s made, and it tickles a tiny bit when his finger passes over his belly button. 

But he’s not patient enough to entertain this for long. With your scent in his nostrils, his fingers wrap around his dick, hand bigger, rougher than yours. He tries to ignore this fact. The feeling of his thumb swiping over his tip, spreading the leaking precum, was very you. And he cries out into your underwear, shivering when some of the lace falls into his mouth. He grows harder in his palm, eyes watering a little from how guilty good he feels. 

Heeseung’s mind trips back to the first time he’d been lucky enough to get his head between those thighs he loves so much. The first lick of your hole - his new favourite flavour. Favourite thing. Laying back on the bed he remembers the way you trembled under his touch. Begged for him. More. Cried out for him. Heeseung. He lets go of his cock. Hand flying to his hair. Tugging. Pulling. The way you had. The way you do. 

But it’s not enough. 

Releasing his hair from his grip, his hand finds his length once again. Jerking off harder. Faster. And he hates that he has to stop touching himself, even for a second - just long enough to spit in his palm before continuing. 

As he breathes you in, he finds it hard to believe that he’d lived a life before knowing what you smelled like. That there was a time where he could think about anything other than when the next time you might sit on his face would be. 

With some struggle, he pulls the panties from his face, bunching them up in his hand and fisting his cock with them. Making sure his head is completely covered, desperate to finish on the thin material. 

While he catches his breath, he brings the (now) cum covered fabric back to his face - moaning into his hand at the way the two of you smell together. Heeseung and YN. YN and Heeseung. Melting into each other. One and the sa-The blissful moment is cut short when he hears you calling his name from another room. 

After cleaning himself up as quickly as possible and making sure to conceal the evidence, Heeseung’s lips are pressed into their usual pout when he appears in the doorway, brows raised and doe eyes wid-immediately stinging with tears when he sees what you’re holding. 

Your brows are knitted together as you stare at him, seemingly in the middle of what looks like some kind of internal debate - and he’s curling and uncurling the toes on each foot alternatively. Left. Right. Left. Right. Le-You clear your throat and Heeseung watches as you turn your attention to the red cotton in your hands. 

He knows he should speak. Explain himself. Tell your that it’s not what it looks like. That he must have put it there by mistake. Claim that he’s recently started sleepwalki- “Is this my used underwear?” Your voice is quiet when you speak, holding the material out towards him. 

There’s a pit in his stomach, a lump in his throat. Oh, Heeseung. Wearing all of his thoughts and feelings on his face. He takes a step back when you take a step towards him. Afraid of what’s to come.

“Is this my used underwear?” You repeat.

He says nothing.

With a tiny smile, you approach him. He doesn’t move. ”Wow.” You whisper, holding his cheek in your palm. The pad of your thumb wiping a stray tear. “Here I was, thinking you were a good boy.” 

His bottom lip trembles, his hands holding onto your wrist. “I am.” He frowns. “I’m your good boy.”

“No,” you shake your head. “You’re a pervert, Heeseung.” 

He whines at the sound of the word. Shaking his own head. Humming in disagreement.

“What was this doing in your pocket then?” 

With no words, he takes your hand in his, pulling you along to your shared room. Heeseung lifts his pillow, though he’s too ashamed to look at you, screwing his eyes shut as he hands yo-And you sound excited when you say: You’re using my dirty panties to jerk off? Oh, baby, you’re so cute. 

©drunkjaked (2022) ALL RIGHTS RESERVED,

perm taglist: @chaersworld

masterlist | other heeseung fics

#heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #lee heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #drunkjaked: oblivious

[watchmegetobsessed]

Tastes Like Strawberries - Harry Styles

a/n: oh this one is a long boi and might not be the end??? i’ve been working on this fic for days and i have an idea for a possible second part, but i wrote this one so it has a fulfilling ending so it can stand as a oneshot as well! i barely just started working on the sequel, we’ll se how it’ll turn out, maybe it goes to shit lmao but whatever, it’s still a nice and whole story without a second part! this is my V-day gift to you all, have this nice professor!harry fic as if it was a box of chocolate! 🍓 🍫 🍬

special thanks to @pastequeharry​ who put up with my constant rambling and whining while i was writing this, you are a hero, his is dedicated to you!!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content, abusing relationship, it’s got smut, angst, lot’s of banter and all that jazz!

word count: 21.4k

masterlist

There’s just a handful of things to know about Professor Harry Styles and that’s because of one of those very few known facts, the first one being that he is a highly private person. He rarely talks about himself or any aspects of his life, he always makes sure to keep it as professional as possible whenever he is teaching.

Second, he is easily the smartest professor to ever walk on campus, but he doesn’t like to brag about it. You never catch him showing off how much he knows, how big of a genius he is, you’ll just start to realize from the way he teaches and approaches certain topics, how he interacts with others and tries to pass his knowledge down to his students. He is brilliant and he should have all the credits for it, yet he still chooses to keep it to himself.

Third, and it’s the most well-known fact because to see this you just need to have a pair of eyes, he is undeniably the most handsome man to ever teach or if you’re being more precise, walk the hallways of the university. No football crazy, alcoholic fratboy or dreamy looking indie guy from the library can live up to what Professor Harry Styles is. With a face clearly carved by the angels, a nicely built but not too muscular frame, and occasionally displayed tattooed arm that makes you wonder what other artworks his stylish outfits are hiding, there’s no man like him and every female on campus agrees with that.

His lectures and courses are jampacked with sighing and heart-eyed college girls, daydreaming about the man who is solemnly just trying to teach the things he is so passionate about. But it’s not just the students, Professor Styles has managed to charm the female professors of all faculties, you can see them wander by his office way too often, they take any opportunity to talk to the man and try to seduce him. It’s unknown if he is oblivious to the effect he has on women or he chooses to ignore every and any attempts, but this is what leads us to the fourth fact.

Despite all the effort and energy that’s been put into his case by every single woman on campus to break the walls the professor has built around himself, he never let any of his students or colleagues to even think they could be romantically linked for real. Professor Styles keeps his distance and turns down any offer that could be mistaken to anything that doesn’t fit in the professional boundaries.

Anytime a student puts on the slightest flirtatious act towards the professor, he either rejects it straight away or ignores it completely and blatantly, making it his clear answer that he is not interested and then he goes back to teaching. You’ve seen it yourself, having him as one of your professors first year of uni, you fell for him just like every other girl in the lecture hall, dreaming about him in ways you probably shouldn’t think of a teacher while he was just casually talking about his grading system and how he is going to build up the lectures throughout the semester. Some brave girls who you assume were highly celebrated by boys in high school took the courage to openly flirt with him, but he didn’t even flinch before shutting all attempts down, not even a blush appeared on his perfectly cut cheekbones.

You thought of ways you’d try to seduce him yourself, but you never actually tried. You never had the balls to actually give it a go and then suffer from the worst embarrassment of your life when he rejects you. So you kept it all to yourself, only entertaining yourself with your elaborate plans about the seduction of your professor.

Second year passed without any classes with Professor Styles, you had only occasionally seen him come and go, rushing down the hallways holding his notebooks to his chest, a steaming cup of coffee in his other hand as he was heading to his lecture hall that you just knew was filled with girls. You always took a moment to yourself to admire his outfit. He has a tendency to pair odd items and make them look like the most put together fit ever that only he can pull off. However, you and your girlfriends always loved to tease him between each other for his grandpa-like sweaters and vests he seemed to love dearly.

“He confuses me, because I want him to fuck me on his desk but also, I feel like he is about to ask me what periodt means because he is too old to understand slang these days,” your friend, Nat said once when your little group was lounging under the huge oak tree between classes and the professor rushed past you, disappearing in the building without paying any of you a look. He wore a pair of beige slacks and a striped sweater, a wrinkly grey shirt peeking from under it at the bottom. The colors and the style overall once again gave you that old people feeling, but then you looked at his handsome face and couldn’t care any less about whatever he was wearing.

The most intimate way you ever saw him was a few days after your twenty-first birthday the summer before your last year of uni started. You just got back from your hometown, the first person to arrive back to your shared flat with Nat and Eden, so you had a few days on your own. You decided to redecorate your room so you took a trip to IKEA, taking your time looking through the set up rooms, just wandering around as you try to figure out what you really want to buy. Walking through the living room section you spotted the professor and first, you didn’t even recognize him.

He was wearing a pair of bright yellow shorts and a short sleeved shirt with floral prints on it, a pair of white framed sunglass on top of his head, keeping his unruly strands out of his face as he was eyeing a couch, seemingly deep in his thoughts. You stopped in your tracks, seeing him in such a casual and everyday setting. For some reason, he seemed like a completely different person.

A woman was there with him and as you walked closer you could hear a fraction of their discussion.

“I don’t know, Gems. Do I need a couch this big?”

“Looks comfy and I like the color. It would also fit in the space just right, I think you should get the bigger one if you have the space for it,” the woman put her two cents in and you wondered who she could be. Girlfriend? Just a casual friend? Maybe fiancé? She did have a ring that could easily go as an engagement ring so you couldn’t tell for sure.

As you were about to walk past you suddenly took the courage to say hi.

“Hello, Professor Styles!” you greeted him with a warm smile and his eyes flickered over to you from the couch in question. One thing you always admired about him is that he never forgot the faces of his students and as he looked at you, you knew he recognized you even if he didn’t know your name specifically.

“Oh, hello,” he nodded in your way.

“I like the couch,” you commented before slowly moving on. “Have a nice rest of your summer!”

“You too, Y/N,” he called after you and it took you by surprise that he remembered your name. Your lecture he taught had almost over a hundred students in it and you weren’t the most active one to stand out that easily, yet he still remembered you more than you were expecting.

That small encounter kept you thinking about him for way longer than you probably should have, especially because you knew you’d have a lecture with him again in the upcoming semester. Your daydreams about him made their way back into your mind as you spent the last days of your summer mostly with your friends. It got you thinking that if you managed to get him to remember your name, maybe you would give one of your plans a go and shoot your shot. He wouldn’t be teaching you in your last semester so you wouldn’t have to face him after he rejects you.

And this is how you came up with your little scheme.

On your last Sunday evening before school starts, you, Nat and Eden sit in the floor of your living room, drinking some white wine as a way of saying goodbye to the carefree summer moments and getting back to the working days of being a senior at uni. Professor Styles came up completely randomly and you let it slip that you’ve just seen him recently at IKEA with a woman and it all led to you admitting that you’ll finally shoot your shot at the professor. Nat and Eden both did the same already, however their attempts were completely ignored and they always bugged you to give it a try yourself, being the only one in your group who hasn’t tried to seduce the professor yet.

“I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell me it’s stupid because I actually think it’ll be funny and a little bit genius,” you tell them before you start sharing the details on your plan.

“Just spill the beans already!” Eden pokes you before she reaches for the bottle and refills her glass.

“Okay, so you both know I took this psychology class last semester for extra credits, right?” The nod and you continue. “The teacher told us about this thing called classical conditioning or they call it pavlovian response too. The guy, Pavlov, did an experiment where he paired the feeding of dogs with a bell ring and after a certain amount of time the dogs started salivating at just the sound of the bell, because they remembered that it’s connected to food. The teacher said this is literally one of the easiest tricks to pull on people.”

“Oh, isn’t this one of the things Jim did on Dwight in The Office?” Nat asks furrowing her eyebrows.

“It is!” you nod, glad that they are understanding the base of your plan. “So, I’ve heard that Professor Styles loves strawberry flavored candies. I thought that I would bring some every day when I see him and offer him some. Slowly, he’ll pair the candy with the thought of me and he’ll get excited when he sees me because he’ll think I have candy for him and it will hopefully work the other way around and he’ll think of me when he is eating strawberry flavored candy that’s not from me.”

Your friends blink at you for a moment, processing what you just shared with them before Eden takes a huge sip of her drink.

“This is the most ridiculous but also the most genius thing I’ve ever heard,” she nods holding her glass up towards you.

“I can’t believe you will pull a psychological experiment on Professor Styles,” Nat shakes her head with a soft chuckle.

“It’s not a blunt way to get closer to him and if he accuses me of trying to flirt I can just say that I’ve been only sharing candy with him, I literally did nothing,” you point out, pretty proud of your solution to your deep fear of having to take his rejection publicly.

“If you get a Noble for this shit, make sure to thank us in your speech,” Eden laughs and you promise to do so when the big moment comes.

Monday morning you make a quick trip to Target and buy a big bag of strawberry flavored candies, probably enough to last for the whole semester, and then you make your way to campus. Following your first lecture you meet up with Eden who also signed up for Professor Styles’ lecture this semester, so the two of you make your way towards the lecture hall together.

“I really can’t believe you are doing this,” she chuckles when you get the candy ready as you near the room. The professor is always the first one in the lecture hall so you know you’ll find him there already.

“You can’t tell me it’s not a funny plan,” you smirk at her. And just as you walk in, you immediately spot the professor sitting at the desk at the front, going over the syllabus before the start. “Save a seat for me,” you tell Eden who just laughs and makes her way up the stairs along the desks.

Grabbing the pack of sweets from your bag you walk up to the professor, feeling confident with your plan. He lifts his head up when he notices your arrival and your eyes meet with his green ones.

“Hello, professor. Would you like some candy?” you simply ask with an innocent smile.

Professor Styles stares at you for a moment before his eyes move down to the candy in your hand, the opening of the bag facing him in a welcoming manner.

“I, uhh… what flavor?” he curiously asks and you can barely push down your smirk.

“Strawberry.”

“Oh. I’ll… take one, thank you,” he nods, hand reaching into the bag as he grabs just one single candy, unwrapping the package before he pops it into his mouth. “Thank you,” he nods again with a delightful smile.

“Of course. Did you buy the couch?” you ask, taking slow steps away from the desk as he keeps his eyes on you.

“I… did not. Bought another one,” he admits shortly and you know you’ve reached the limit. If you ask more, he’ll get suspicious, so you just nod smiling before walking up to the spot Eden has reserved for you. When you sit down, you catch the professor paying you one last glance before he returns to what he was previously doing.

“You are a genius, because now we can watch him suck on a fucking candy for the next few minutes,” Eden mumbles quietly, making you laugh.

“I knew this would be a good plan,” you sigh, satisfied with the work you’ve done. Now it’s just a matter of time.

Every Monday and Wednesday, you arrive with the same bag of candy to the lecture hall, walk up to Professor Styles and offer him one. And he always takes one. The first few times he seems hesitant when he spots you approaching him, but he slowly grows used to your tiny act of kindness that occurs every time you see him. On week three you expand the plan. You usually have lunch with Nat on Thursdays since you both have a break between one and two pm. The two of you try to take advantage of the warm early autumn days and sit under the pergola that’s near the building where Professor Styles’ office is as well. It’s mere coincidence, you only like that place because it’s close to the lecture hall you have to go to after lunch, but you notice that the professor emerges from Building C around one thirty, walking back to his office probably after one of his classes. The sidewalk runs directly next to the pergola so it gives you a chance to bring the candy out one more time every week. You nicely greet him when he is nearing the two of you and then hold out the bag, asking if he wants some. He always takes one and thanks you with a sweet smile that leaves you a tad bit blushed.

“I can’t fucking believe your plan is working,” Nat chuckles in disbelief on one occasion when the professor just disappeared in the building, probably happily unwrapping his candy of the day.

“It’s funny, innit?” you grin at her proudly.

Frankly, this is just a fun experiment for you. You don’t actually think that the professor will think of you differently even the slightest. You might be able to plant the thought of you in his head, but that doesn’t instantly mean that he’ll start fancying you and actually do something about it. It would be ridiculously naïve to think it’s going to be you who breaks through the wall that hundreds of women had already tried to knock down.

Week six is what brings the breakthrough. After long consideration and discussion with Nat and Eden, you decide to test if the experiment has been successful. You offer one last candy on Monday, but Wednesday brings the change. You go to lecture without candy. Well, you have it on you, but you decide not to ask him if he wants some.

Walking into the lecture hall, as always, he is already sitting at his desk, flipping through the pages of a book when you walk up to him with the intention of asking him a question on the paper that’s due next week.

“Professor Styles?” you softly speak up, catching his attention. “Can I have a question about the paper?”

“Of course,” he nods and you can’t tell just yet if he was expecting the candy or not.

“I was wondering if I can use a diagram to visualize my results at the end. I have a brilliant idea to summarize the data with one.”

“Sure, just make sure to give credit wherever it’s due, if you are using someone else’s work for the diagram.”

“Definitely,” you smile at him and wait a moment. That’s where you see the anticipation in his eyes.

His gaze flickers down to your hands and then to your bag where you always carry the candy and when his eyes meet yours again, you see him swallow hard.

He was expecting the candy. Not only expecting, but he started salivating when he saw you, thinking that he would get the candy from you as always.

“Is… that all?” he asks, the slightest hint of hope appearing in his tone, probably waiting for you to pull the bag of candy out of your bag and offer him one. But it’s not happening today.

“Yes, thank you very much,” you nod smiling widely before you turn around and walk away, a shocked and triumphant look appearing on your face once he can’t see it anymore and when Eden sees you, she gasps.

“He fucking expected the candy, didn’t he?!” she whispers at you in shock and you nod frantically, still not believing your plan worked.

“You should have seen the anticipation in his eyes, he really thought I was gonna offer him some!”

“Oh my God, this is hilarious!” Eden laughs covering her mouth as the lecture hall starts to fill up slowly.

Turning forward, you see that the professor is sitting behind his desk, the book that had his attention before your arrival is long forgotten in front of him, now he is staring ahead of him with slightly furrowed eyebrows, deep in his thoughts.

Is he thinking about you? Or why he was expecting candy from you?

You see him reach for his water bottle and he takes two big gulps probably to wash away his need for the candy before he narrows his eyes and at last they find you in the auditorium. You tilt your head to the side innocently smiling, as if you know absolutely nothing about anything. You keep eye-contact, forcing you not to be the one who breaks it and he is intimidating. You feel like he can read your mind as he stares at you and when he finally turns his gaze back at the book, you exhale sharply.

The lecture goes down just as usual and when the professor dismisses the class you decide to put the cherry to the top. Walking down between the desks you grab a candy from your bag and while the professor is talking to a girl who also had a question about the paper, you place the candy to his desk next to his book. He doesn’t see you walk out and you don’t see him when he finds it, but something is telling you he figured you out. No way a man as smart as him doesn’t realize what game you’ve been playing with him.

Sitting under the pergola on Thursday you are deep in discussion with Nat, helping her with a task sheet she has to turn in after lunch but she completely forgot about it. As the two of you are trying to do the seemingly endless sheet, you don’t even notice the professor walking from Building C, as always, but he spots you.

“No, I don’t think that’s even a thing, you can’t write that,” you tell Nat, but she shakes her head.

“I don’t care if it’s a thing, I just want to fill in the whole thing so the teacher doesn’t think I finished it in twenty minutes before class,” she mumbles, scribbling down her answer as you just chuckle at her.

Suddenly, you see a pair of dusty Vans appear in your sight and as your eyes move up, you are facing none other than Professor Styles, standing right in front of you, holding out his hand with his hand turned upwards, a cheeky smile tugging on his lips. His appearance takes you by surprise and for a moment you just dumbly stare down at his palm, then up at his eyes.

“Very smart. Pulling a pavlovian on me with my favorite candy,” he speaks up, dropping his hand as he cocks his head to the side. Nat looks up from her sheet with wide eyes as you stare at the professor with blushing cheeks.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, professor,” you tell him with a knowing smirk.

“Of course. You know, it took me a moment to realize yesterday, but I wanted to let you know that… I think it was clever.”

“If I knew anything about what you’re talking about… I would say thank you. But I stand up for my innocence.”

“Surely,” he chuckles softy. “Have a great rest of your week,” he then nods before turning around to walk away, but you quickly reach into your bag and grab a candy.

“Professor Styles!” you call out and he turns back just in time to catch the candy you throw in his way. He glances at it in his palm before his eyes snap up to you again, smirking at you shortly before he disappears in the building.

“Okay, call me stupid, but I could feel the sexual tension between the two of you,” Nat says as soon as the professor is out of sight.

“Don’t be silly, it was just… a joke and he liked it.”

“He called you clever, Y/N!”

“No, he called my trick clever.”

“But you came up with it so you’re clever too. Say whatever you want, but I actually think you have a shot at him.”

“I definitely don’t,” you laugh shaking your head and you genuinely believe it. Nat scoffs before she gets back to her sheet, but not without having one last thought about the situation.

“We’ll be laughing at how you brainwashed him into liking you when you’ll be dating for years, living together and all that shit.”

You’ve made some very questionable choices in your dating life prior. Like when you dated a boy in high school and let him take your virginity at the back of his mom’s minivan just to break up with your right after that, or when you briefly dated the guy you met at the mall, but it later turned out he was gay and he used you as his cover up in front of his family. But the worst decision of all was dating an egoistic forty years old loser who just freshly got divorced and went after you at some tacky bar you were at with your friends.

The time you spent dating Victor is way less than the time he has been bothering you, trying to make you go back to him when you’ve actually told him you don’t want anything to do with him anymore. You broke up with him just before you went home for the summer and he didn’t take it well, even drove up to your hometown and showed up at your parents’ house drunk, begging for you to take him back. He never stood a chance, not after that one time he slapped you across the face during a fight the two of you had. You tolerate a lot of things but not violence and you don’t believe him when he says it was just a onetime thing. There’s no guarantee he won’t hit you ever again and you are definitely not waiting around to see if he told you the truth.

On this particular late October evening you are searching through your whole room looking for a book you know you have, but can’t seem to find anywhere. It’s your holy bible about research methodology and you need it for your thesis work, but it seems like the small apartment has completely swallowed it.

“Didn’t you leave it at Victor’s? You were working on that long essay when you were dating him, saw you use the book all the time,” Eden tells you when you ask her if she’s seen it anywhere and then it clicks.

She is right, now you remember leaving the book at his once and you completely forgot to pick it up after things got nasty between the two of you.

“Damn it,” you growl in annoyance.

Not feeling like calling him, you send him a quick text, hoping he still has it and hasn’t burned it after one of your fights.

Y/N: Hey, I think I left my research methodology book at yours. You still have it?

Victor: I do.

Y/N: Cool, can I drop by to pick it up?

Victor: I’m leaving for work, you can come to the bar if you want it.

You sigh in defeat. Victor is a bartender at a place that’s all the way across town, takes almost an entire hour to get there, but you are left with no other choice.

Y/N: Okay, I’ll see you there.

The raining has finally stopped this morning so you feel better leaving the house than you would have if it was still pouring. You take the bus and travel across town, feeling anxious to see Victor again. Last time you met him he cursed you out and threw his phone at you, barely missing your head. You promised yourself you wouldn’t go near him again after that, but it seems like you can never get completely rid of him.

Students rarely come to this part of the town, it’s way too far from campus and has nothing to offer that can’t be found closer to the dormitories or the school’s buildings. It’s not entirely your scene either, the bars around here are liked by older generations, not by people your age, this is another reason why you don’t like coming around here.

The bar where Victor works is a place where they have different local bands perform every Friday and Saturday. It’s not a tacky nook with creepy dudes, they actually have prices on the higher end, not something you can necessarily afford with your part time job’s paycheck from the small accounting office near your apartment where you work as an assistant on your free afternoons.

Walking into the place you immediately spot Victor behind the bar and you take a deep breath before you walk up to him.

“Hey,” you call out for him, taking one of the stools along the bar.

“Hey. Long time no see.”

“Happens when you break up with someone,” you respond with a little spice and he frowns at your words. “Can you give me the book?”

“I’ll have a break in ten, can you wait for that or you have something extra urgent shit to do, as always?” You can tell he is still bitter from how things ended between the two of you, but you’ve learned not to care about it. His way of dealing with the breakup is not your responsibility, no matter how hard he is trying to prove it wrong.

You roll your eyes but nod, knowing well there’s no use to fight him. Ten minutes is not the end of the world. Busying yourself on your phone, you try to stay unnoticed and luckily, Victor can’t keep chatting with you, because customers keep coming up to him and ordering drinks. When he finally has his break he tells you to follow him to the back.

“So how have you been?” he asks as you walk down the hallway that leads to the small break room, there’s an office at the end and some kind of changing room you guess for the bands, along with a storage.

“Fine.”

“You really gonna be a bitter bitch and not talk to me?” he asks you, giving you a disgusted look, but you know it’s just the anger talking from him.

“Victor, I didn’t come here to talk, I just need my book!”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t answer my question.”

“I answered it! I’ve been fine, now give me the damn book!” you growl, losing your patience with him, but he is seemingly in the same shoes.

“When will you stop being a bitch and just drop this ridiculous act, Y/N? I’ve been after you for months yet you keep ignoring me!”

“Did it ever occur to you that I’m ignoring you because I don’t want anything to do with you? Victor, it’s been months, just… move the fuck on! Go cry to your ex-wife or something, I don’t care!”

You didn’t mean to snap, but he always brings the worst out of you. From the corner of your eyes you can see movement at the other end of the hallway where the changing room is, but you don’t get to pay much attention to it, because the next moment Victor grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! You ungrateful slut, I swear…”

There’s little you can do, he is twice as big as you are, his grip on your arm so strong there’s no doubt it will leave a mark. Your heart is racing as you try to pull yourself out of his hold, but he doesn’t even bat an eye at your attempt.

However, before he could drag you into the empty breakroom to do god knows what, he is stopped by a voice.

“Hey! Let her go!”

If you weren’t shocked enough at his violent reaction, now you are definitely think you’re going nuts, because it’s none other than Professor Styles who is now nearing you with a hard expression on his face, two other guys following right behind him and though none of them are bigger than Victor, he knows he can’t just start a fight with three men.

Your chest is heaving when the professor finally reaches you and Victor’s hold lets go of you, making you fall back a little.

“You perform here twice and think you’re some kind of rockstar?” Victor spats at the professor, but you’re a little lost in what’s really going on. Professor Styles gently grabs your wrist and pulls you behind him, eyes never leaving Victor’s burning gaze.

“You alright?” one of the other two men asks and you nod, not finding your voice to actually speak.

“Get the hell out of my sight before I call the police on you,” the professor answers in a calm yet threatening voice

Victor takes a second to himself, thinking about the choices he has before he turns around and disappears in the breakroom, slamming the door behind him, leaving you in complete shock about what just happened.

Professor Styles then turns around, his eyes soften at seeing how shaken you are and quite frankly, you feel like you are in a bad and quite weird dream.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks, clearly worried about you and you just shake your head no.

“I-I’m fine, I think,” you mumble out of breath.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” the guy who asked if you’re alright suggests and you nod in agreement, following them kind of blindly, the three of them keeping you in their little circle as you walk out to the bar and they don’t stop until you are out of the place in the cold night air. You slowly come back to reality and process that Professor Styles just saved you out of fucking nowhere from your abusive asshole ex. That’s what you call a plot twist.

You finally take a moment to look at the other two guys, they both look the same age as the professor, or maybe a little older, both of them are rocking some facial hair, the one that asked you seems a little more open while the other one quite reserved but friendly looking.

“What… What were you doing back there?” you ask, turning to face the professor. He clearly seems upset, but you’re not sure if it’s entirely because of what happened with Victor back then or because you are standing outside some random bar on a Saturday night, definitely crossing his personal boundaries he keeps so high at school.

“We played here tonight, was just about to leave when I saw you.”

“You have a band?” you ask, shocked at the detail.

“A pretty good one,” the talkative guy chuckles. “I’m Adam, nice to meet you. This is Mitch.”

You shake hands with them introducing yourself as well.

“Y/N is… my student,” the professor adds as if he is clearing the air for his bandmates, a kind of warning for them.

From the direction of the parking lot two women emerge, laughing on something as they walk up to the four of you, both of them eyeing you curiously.

“Hey boys, who is this pretty girl?”

“Sarah, Charlotte, this is Y/N, she is my student. Y/N, these are my other band mates, Sarah and Charlotte,” the professor introduces you as you shake hands with them quickly.

“I-I’m sorry I interrupted your time with your friends, professor,” you shyly apologize, feeling like a complete intruder all of a sudden with all his bandmates around you.

“Interrupt? Sweetheart, that dude was about to do some unforgivable things to you, don’t apologize for needing help,” Adam snorts. “You’re lucky we were there.”

“What? What happened?” Sarah asks in confusion.

“Just… my asshole ex got a little too violent when I didn’t want to chit-chat with him,” you admit with a defeated sigh.

“Oh shit, but are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you smile faintly, though you still can feel his grip on your upper arm. “I, um… I better get going, I guess. Thank you for… the saving,” you say, a little lost about what should be said in this situation.

“You’re leaving? We were just about to go to a much better place, why don’t you come with us, forget about your ex a little?” Charlotte offers and you catch the professor’s panicked look for a split second.

“I, um… I don’t think I should, but thank you.”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Sarah questions.

“Because I know how Professor Styles hates to mingle with students outside of lectures and I don’t want to cross any lines,” you truthfully admit. The professor furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t hate mingling with students,” he states.

“Well, you are surely not the most reachable professor on campus,” you chuckle lightly. “But it’s fine, I understand it. So I’ll just head home.”

“Come on, Harry. Let her tag along for just one drink!” Sarah begs and seemingly everyone would be happy to have you join for a little. The professor’s eyes meet yours, as if he is contemplating whether he should say yes or let you go home. When he finally speaks up you’re more surprised than when you realized it was him saving you from Victor.

“I guess you could use a drink after what happened in there,” he says, the tiniest smirk showing on his lips as your eyes shoot up.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, come on,” he nods and your little group heads down the street.

Turns out the place they were heading to was just two corners down, so they left all their stuff at the minivan at the parking lot for the time being. You slide into an empty booth, Adam and Mitch go to get the first round, so it’s just the three of you girls and the professor.

“So you’re in one of Harry’s lectures?” Charlotte asks with a warm smile.

“Yeah, for the second time, actually. Had him in first year, now it’s my fifth semester and I had no doubt I have to take his class if I have the chance.” You pay a glance at him, but he is staring at his hands on his lap, you can’t tell if it’s because he is uncomfortable with you there or if it’s something else.

“It’s so funny, because we’ve heard that he is known to be a good teacher but we never actually heard it from one of his students,” Sarah chuckles. “What’s he like?”

“Sarah, you enjoy talking about me when I’m very much present?” he scoffs, giving her a look, but she just shrugs innocently.

“Come on, I bet even you’re curious about what your students think of you. Now is your time to find it out!”

“I think Professor Styles knows very well that he is one of the best, if not the actual best,” you truthfully say and see him raise his eyebrows a little.

“What makes him so good?” Charlotte questions.

You glance at him again, as a way of asking for permission if you can answer. You definitely don’t want to make him even more uncomfortable by talking about him when he is right next to you. He looks into your eyes, and his expression tells you that he wants to hear your answer as well, but he quickly adds:

“You don’t have to answer, Y/N.”

“It’s not a secret,” you admit it with a smile. “Professor Styles’ lectures always leave you with a question to think about until next week, he is great at getting into your head without you even noticing. He explains the most complicated things in so simple ways, it should be taught,” you say with a soft chuckle. “I think his enormous knowledge about many different fields in science and just life in general is amusing, anyone can learn something from him, it’s guaranteed.”

“Wow, where is this academic genius side of yours when you’re around us, or we only get to see the dad joke version of you?” Sarah teases him and you can’t push down a laugh, imagining him cracking dad jokes feels so alien but still kind of fitting for him.

“That’s what you get when you’re a nosy little thing,” he retorts with a small smirk. He then turns to you, and as Sarah and Charlotte are laughing on something, he lowly tells you: “You can call me Harry outside of school. Feels weird that you call me professor when my friends are around.”

“You sure?”

He nods and you spot a small smile on his lips. He must be getting used to the feel of you being there, but you still don’t want to push his limits too much.

“Can I ask you something?” he questions, leaning back in his seat.

“Of course.”

“If your ex is this aggressive, why were you there with him?”

His question is surprising, you didn’t think he would ask you something personal, but you guess it’s a valid question after he just saved you from Victor.

“I wanted to get a book back that I left at his place. Didn’t even get to the point where he could have given it back,” you mumble under your breath.

“What book?”

“Just this… research methodology book, wanted it back for my thesis work, but I guess I’ll have to buy a new one,” you huff bitterly.

“Is it the one written by William Scott?”

“Y-Yeah, it is. You know it?” you ask, but then realize it’s a bit of a dumb question. He probably knows every academically important book you will ever come across.

“I actually have it myself,” he nods. Just then, Mitch and Adam return with the drinks and you thank them for the beer, already reaching for your money to pay, but Adam shakes his head.

“It’s on me, don’t worry.”

You watch as Mitch sits beside Sarah, curling an arm around her shoulders and though you couldn’t have guessed that they are a couple, seeing them like this it actually makes sense, they look cute together.

You take a sip from your beer, trying to join the conversation Sarah and Charlotte are having, when your attention is pulled back by Harry.

“I can… lend you the book, if you want.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. I’ll just get a new one.”

“No, really. I think I even have two copies, I can give one to you.”

“I couldn’t ask you that, prof—I mean Harry.”

“You’re not asking,” he smiles at you softly. “I probably won’t need both, so why not put the extra into use?”

“Okay, but I’ll pay for it,” you insist, but Harry shakes his head.

“No need, one of them was a gift so I didn’t pay for it either.”

“Well… if you’re sure about it, I would love to have that extra copy, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So Y/N, what do you study exactly?” Adam questions, pulling you out of your little discussion with Harry.

“I’m majoring in anthropology, but I’ve been taking some psychology classes on the side just because I’m interested in the topics.”

“And what is Harry teaching you?”

“Had him for intro Sociology lecture first year, now I’m in his Methodology of Cultural Anthropology class.”

“All these subjects with their GY endings, I don’t know how you two put up with science on this level,” Sarah huffs in amusement.

“The names sometimes sound fancier than the subject itself,” you tell her smiling.

“But I bet you need to be quite smart to study these stuff on this level you are at.”

“Oh, it’s just a bachelorette degree, I wouldn’t say I’m that smart,” you chuckle shyly.

“She is totally toning it down,” Harry speaks up, catching everyone’s attention. “I know students tend to take my into Sociology class for just some extra credits so I always give them two options for the semester. They can either write a two pages long review of any article related to the topics talked about at lecture and get their strong C with the bare minimum, or actually participate and do a research of their own and turn in an at least seven pages long essay about their chosen topic. Y/N turned in an eleven pages long paper on the history of death sentences in the U.S. in the last fifty years and how society is thinking about it nowadays. It was easily one of the best works I’ve ever read and it was just an intro class.”

“You remember my essay?” you ask in complete shock.

“Of course. As I said, one of the bests I’ve read,” he nods confidently.

“So you’re like… on Harry’s smart level, actually?” Sarah asks, tilting her head to the side and you can feel yourself blushing.

You’ve always been said to be the smart kid at school, but you never thought it to be true yourself. In your book, you were just doing your absolute best, soaking in whatever knowledge was thrown in your way. You never actually understood how someone could just not study for an exam or not do an assignment, because you always felt like it was your duty to do the best you can. You thought yourself to be more of a hard-working student rather than a smart one.

“She is definitely a bright one,” Harry agrees, his eyes meeting yours as a small smile appears on his lips and you think that this is the biggest compliment you’ve ever gotten. “She actually tricked me with a psychological experiment and I didn’t even realize it,” he laughs and you can’t hold your smirk back.

“What? What did you do?” Charlotte asks, dying to know how you played Harry.

“Have you heard of the Pavlovian response?” you ask looking around and you can tell it rings a bell for all of them.

“The one with the dogs and the bell?” Mitch asks and you nod.

“Wait you did that on Harry?” Adam laughs with wide eyes and you just nod with a sly smile.

“I just offered him strawberry flavored candies every time I saw him. Took me six weeks to build up the response but he actually started expecting it whenever he saw me,” you tell them chuckling to yourself.

“And I only realized it when she stopped with the candy and I felt this massive feeling that something was missing,” Harry adds shaking his head with a soft laugh.

“Okay, that’s hilarious,” Sarah snorts clapping her hands together. “Y/N, I adore you, you’re brilliant!”

“It was just… an experiment,” you shrug shyly.

The night carries much faster than you realize. One drink turns into three and before you could realize, it’s already past midnight. Eden texts you, asking where you are since you said you’d just get the book and go home right away, but it’s been hours.

Y/N: Don’t freak out, but I’m at a bar with Prof. Styles and his friends. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow!

Eden: HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME NOT TO FREAK OUT AFTER READING THIS???!?!

Y/N: Lol, chill. Nothing extra is happening.

Eden: It’s already extra that you’re out with him.

Realizing how late it is, you decide you better get going, since it’s a long way back home. When you tell the little group that you’re about to head out, they all agree that it’s time to part ways and leave, so you all slowly make your way back to the parking lot.

“Do you know where the bus stop is back?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, trying to spot where you should be heading.

“You want to go home by bus at this time?” Harry asks.

“Well, I surely won’t pay for a ride, I live almost an hour away from here.”

“An hour?” he frowns. “I’ll take you home, come on,” he tells you, heading towards the minivan.

“What? No need. The bus is fine,” you protest, but he shakes his head.

“You are not taking the bus at this hour, not under my watch,” he simply states and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Didn’t realize I was under your watch,” you tease him and it seems like your comment caught him off-guard. “Don’t piss your pants, I was just joking,” you tell him, and thought for a second you feel like you are being way too comfortable around him, his smile quickly smashes your doubts.

Sarah, Mitch and Charlotte all take an Uber since they live near each other and Adam is picked up by his wife, so when everyone is off to their own way, you and Harry get in the van and head to your place.

“How long have you had the band?” you ask, in need to break the silence that’s been weighing down on the two of you. “If you don’t mind me asking,” you add quickly when you see him.

“About four years. Used to have another one, but we parted ways.”

“And what do you do in the band?”

“I, uhh… Well I mostly sing but I also play the guitar.”

“You know, I’m not that surprised you can sing,” you chuckle to yourself sinking further down in your seat.

“How come?”

“You have a voice that’s great to listen to at lectures, makes sense that you can sing as well.”

You take a moment to look at his hand that’s gripping the steering wheel, he is the kind that drives with one hand on the wheel, the other one on the shifting gear. He makes it look so easy as he steers the wheel whenever he is turning a corner while his other one easily moves around the shifting gear, his tattoos are peeking from under his rolled up shirt sleeve. He catches you staring and you feel a blush burning on your cheeks as you turn your head to the other side. Maybe you shouldn’t have drunk that third beer…

“Am I really seen that rigid by the students?” he speaks up after a while and you turn back to face him.

“What do you mean?”

“You said I’m known about not mingling with students.”

“Well, you don’t mingle, do you? But it doesn’t mean you come off as rigid. More like… closed-off. Private.”

“I know I should be a little friendlier, but I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, I think everyone gets it why you’re like that.”

“Do they?” he arches an eyebrow.

“Well, you’re obviously a ladies’ favorite, but it doesn’t sit well with you being a person of some sort of power. It’s clear that you don’t want anyone to get the wrong picture about you. I’ve seen how bluntly girls are flirting with you, some of them are quite scandalous if you ask me,” you huff to yourself. “I totally get it that you don’t want even just a rumor to spread about you.”

“Didn’t think I was that obvious,” he admits, running his tongue over his lips.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re still a highly fancied professor, in all means,” you tell him with a warm smile.

“Does this mean you also fancy me?” he suddenly questions and your lips part at his words. He quickly realizes how ambiguous he just sounded. “I mean, am I one of your favorites? Where do I stand in your chart of professors?”

You can’t tell for sure because of the lack of lighting, but you could have sworn there’s a light blush on his cheeks as he corrects himself. Because of this, you don’t know for sure if he really meant it academically. Either way, the answer is the same.

“You’re my favorite,” you confidently state and your eyes meet for a moment before he turns back to face the road.

The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, you keep giving him directions to your place until you finally arrive a little before one am.

“Well, thank you for the ride,” you smile at him, grabbing the door handle.

“See you on Monday,” he nods shortly and watches as you get out of the can.

“Yeah, see you, professor,” you smirk before shutting the door and walking up the stairs and disappearing in your building.

“Was that Professor Styles in the fucking minivan?!” Nat throws the question at you the moment you open the front door.

“Jesus, why are you still up?” you sigh, shutting the door and shimmying yourself out of your coat.

“Because we were waiting for you!” Eden rolls her eyes. “So, care to tell us what the fuck just happened?” The three of you get comfortable on the couch and you give them a quick rundown of your evening from meeting Victor through being saved by Harry right to him offering to drive you home and they listen to you with wide eyes in complete shock that you just spent your entire evening with the most handsome professor on campus who also happens to be the most private as well.

“If I didn’t see him sitting in that van with my own eyes I would straight up think you’re lying, but I saw his tattooed hand over the windshield,” Nat gasps, processing the story.

“I know, I still feel like it didn’t happen, but it did.”

“And what is he like around his friends? What are his friends like?” Eden questions, hugging her knees to her chest.

“He is pretty much just like in lecture, just jokes a little more and he has a looser vocab. His friends are hilarious, I really got along with Sarah.”

“I know you still think it won’t happen, but I actually think you have a shot at him, Y/N,” Eden points it out and you just chuckle.

“Why, because he saved me from my douche ex?”

“No, because he let you stay for the night with him and his friends. This is literally the first ever time a student hung out with him.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Harry is a reserved and private person—“

“Harry?!” they gasp at the same time.

“You are now just casually calling him Harry?” Nat asks with ogling eyes.

“Well, yes, he asked me to, because it felt weird that I was calling him Professor Styles with his friends around.”

“Okay, I’m giving it… let’s say, he seems to be moving pretty slow, but y’all will be fucking in about six months,” Nat bluntly tells you and it makes you laugh.

“Oh, sure, whatever. I’m gonna shower and head to bed, you two don’t get too crazy with your fairytales,” you wave at them before disappearing in the bathroom.

The rest of the weekend goes by uneventfully, outside of the pathetic attempt from Victor to get you to talk to him, but you’ve had enough of him for a life so you finally block his number and hope you won’t ever see him again.

Both you and Eden oversleep on Monday morning, skipping your early morning lecture and already being late for Harry’s class as well, so you barely make it to Harry’s class in time, just sprinting up the rows, flopping down to your usual seats when Harry starts the lecture. It all goes as usual as if nothing really happened during the weekend, Harry doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. Glancing over at his desk you spot the book he promised you and you can’t hold your smile back. Still grinning, your eyes accidentally meet with his gaze and he stops for a heartbeat as if he is questioning why you are so smiley, but you just shake your head and he carries on before anyone could suspect a thing.

“I gotta run, my favorite TA is having his office hours now and I have a few questions for him. See you at home?” Eden asks once the lecture is over and you are getting ready to leave.

“Sure, have a good day!” you call after her and she sings a ‘you too!’ before running out of the room.

You pack up and head down between the rows, Harry spotting you right away and you go up to him without him even asking you to.

“Hey, sorry we were a little late to class this morning,” you tell him and he just shakes his head kindly.

“No worries. How… is your arm?” He furrows his eyebrows, his gaze wandering down to your forearm where Victor grabbed you on Saturday.

“Oh, it’s fine. I just have a little bruise,” you shrug, because it really isn’t that big deal, but you can tell Harry is still outraged by what happened.

“M’sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Would be worse if you weren’t there,” you smile at him kindly and he nods to himself before turning to his desk.

“I, uhh, I brought the book we talked about,” he shyly says grabbing it from the desk. As people are exiting the room you can feel the glares on yourself, most of them are probably trying to figure out why Harry is talking to you for so long, but you don’t pay much attention to them as you take the book he hands you.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for it?”

“No need, keep it, it’s yours,” he shakes his head with a small smile.

“Thank you then.” You slide the book into your bag before looking back up at him. “Well, I’ll see you on Wednesday, professor,” you smile warmly before heading out.

“See you!” he calls after you before you close the door behind you.

The week carries on as usual, you are working on papers that needs to be turned in before the fall break so you spend some extra time at the library, using every bit of free time you have so you finish everything on time.

Things go back to kind of normal with Harry, he greets you in the mornings when you walk into the lecture hall and other than the warm smile he occasionally gives you, nothing has changed.

Friday however brings a surprise, but not from Harry. You’re sitting at work in the afternoon, typing away on your computer, filling in some sheets when you get a notification on your phone from Instagram.

Sarah Jones is now following you!

You tap on her profile but see that it’s private so without a second thought you request following. Luckily, she approves you only a few seconds later and you gain access to her posts, quite a few of them featuring Harry on them.

Photos of birthdays, weekend getaways, band practices and performances, Harry makes a lot of appearances on her feed and you find yourself scrolling all the way down until you reach the first few posts from 2016. Just as you are about to leave her profile you get a message from her.

Sarah: Hey Y/N! Charlotte and I’ve been talking about you recently, loved having you with us last Saturday! Want to grab a drink with the two of us this weekend?

Y/N: Would love to, but I’m not sure Harry would like the idea…

Sarah: He won’t be there and besides, who is he to tell you who you can and can’t hang out with?

She is right. You enjoyed spending time with them as well and Harry has little to no word in if you want to meet up with his friends or not. This invitation has no connection to him being your professor.

Y/N: Alright, I’m down!

 This is how your friendship with Sarah and Charlotte starts. You meet up with them on Saturday and have an amazing time, they are definitely fun people to spend time with and though at first you feel hesitant to get closer to them, you soon forget about your doubts and just enjoy your time with them.

Your little girls night goes so well that they invite you out for dinner on Wednesday with Mitch joining the little trio. You learn that he is a quiet but hilarious guy, he and Sarah make a great couple, you think.

“We have a gig this Saturday at Green Light, want to come?” Charlotte asks at the end of the dinner.

“Okay, I really don’t think Harry would be a fan of that idea,” you point out, feeling like it’s surely over the lines. He still doesn’t know about you meeting some of his friends without him and you’re not sure how he would react if he did.

“Harry can fuck off, not everything is about him. We are inviting you as our friends, he just happens to be in the band as well,” Sarah rolls her eyes, clearly not as bothered by the situation as you are.

“I just don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“He is a big boy, he’ll get himself over it, don’t worry. So, are you coming?”

“I guess, alright,” you nod with a soft chuckle.

 Next week you contemplate telling Harry that Sarah invited you out for their gig, but at last you decide against it, something is telling you he would try to talk you down and now you’re pretty hyped to see them perform. So you keep quiet and just brace yourself for the worst when Saturday comes.

You don’t overdress for the occasion, decide to wear some light washed mom jeans and a simple sweater tucked into it, a casual look for a night out.

Even when you’re on your way to the place you are having second guesses whether it’s a good idea or not, but you tell yourself it’s not that big of a deal and if Harry flips, you’ll just tell him you came for Sarah and Charlotte.

As you get off the bus and walk towards the place, you immediately spot the little group of three next to Harry’s minivan, Sarah waving in your way as you become visible in the streetlights.

“There she is!” she beams happily and you just chuckle at her.

Harry is standing with his back facing your way but seeing Sarah’s reaction he turns around and you swear for a moment you think he is about to faint when he spots you.

“Hey everyone,” you smile as Sarah pulls you into a hug and Charlotte does the same.

“Hey, if it isn’t our little trouble seeker!” Adam teases you and you just roll your eyes at him before shyly glancing at Harry who is standing on your left, awfully quiet and deep in his thoughts since your arrival. He feels your eyes on him and his gaze meets yours and just by one look you can tell he is pissed.

Just as you thought.

The group chats a little longer outside before Adam suggests they head inside and get ready for their start and you are just about to follow them, but Harry keeps you back.

“Y/N, can we have a word?”

Staying back you nod, hiding your hands in your coat’s pockets as you look at him, lips curled into your mouth.

“What are you doing here?” he questions, eyebrows knitted together and he looks so damn intimidating, the neon lights from the front of the building tinting part of his face green, but you think red would suit him better with this look.

“I… came to see the band playing, what do you mean?”

“Is this your sneaky way of trying to come after me? Because I thought we had a very clear discussion about my thoughts regarding situations like this and you seemed to understand it.”

He comes off way angrier than you think he should be. Yes, it might be uncomfortable for him to see you here, but the tone he just hit is way too harsh for your liking and professor or not, you are not letting anyone talk to you like that when it’s completely not relevant.

“Okay, calm down. First of all, I was invited here.”

“By who?” he spats.

“Sarah and Charlotte, we met last weekend and had dinner this week as well. Had a great time and they asked me to come tonight as well, so get off of your high horse, I’m not here for you.” You can see the change on his face as the information sinks in and he realizes he accused you wrongly, but you’re not quite done with him. “But if I was here to see you, why does that bother you so much? You can’t avoid meeting students every minute when you’re off-campus. If I came here because of you, it shouldn’t affect you this much if you weren’t worried about something else than me just being here,” you point out and he furrows his eyebrows at you. “If I didn’t know better I would think you’re afraid to be around me because you actually like me, huh!” you tell him with an innocent yet suggesting look. His eyes widen and the confidence in himself quickly vanishes from him, replaced by anxiety and nervous looks as he realizes the meaning behind your words.

“I-I, that’s not—I’m not—“

“Take a breath before you pass out, Harry,” you sigh, dropping the hard act. “I didn’t come here for you and if you want to know I actually thought a lot about canceling because of you. But I genuinely like spending time with Sarah and Charlotte so I’m here as their friend.”

Harry stares back at you, completely defeated, regret filling his green eyes. You feel a little guilty for snapping so hard at him, after all you do understand his point of view, but you genuinely don’t think it’s as big of a deal as he makes it to be.

“I-I’m…”

“It’s fine, okay? Let’s just… move past it, alright?��� you suggest and he nods as the two of you head inside, joining the rest of the group.

You stay behind while they are waiting for their time to perform, keeping some distance from Harry so he can’t accuse you again, but you occasionally look his way, catching him already looking at you, but you just can’t tell what could be possibly going on in his head. When it’s time for them to go on stage, you go out to the actual bar area and sit by the counter, not too much at the front but close enough to see everything that happens on the stage.

When they start playing you can’t take your eyes off Harry. His energy behind the microphone just knocks you off the stool and you watch him completely mesmerized as if he has put a spell on you. It feels like he turns into an entirely different person on stage, nothing like the man you see at lectures every Monday and Wednesday. He sings perfectly on key, putting some extra charm into the songs with his little additional tunes whenever he is not singing a line.

But what makes it absolutely impossible to look away from him is because he keeps staring at you, eyes locking with yours for way too long every time he catches your gaze. You try to ignore it, but it’s quite hard when his eyes are basically burning into you, it leaves you breathless.

Once the concert is over you order yourself two tequila shots quickly, because something is telling you that you’ll need the boosting if you want to face Harry after his little performance.

But for your surprise, when you join the band again and get near him, nothing really happens. It seems like Harry has come to peace with your presence in his little group of friends and he actually treats you like you’re part of the circle.

The six of you occupy a table at the back of the bar to spend there the rest of the evening and it’s all good, it seems. A harmless night out with a bunch of friends, nothing extra. Harry actually strikes up conversations with you involved and you feel like you’ve overcome a banter finally.

“Do you need a ride home?” Harry asks at the end of the night when everyone is about to head home.

“Only if it’s fine by you.”

“Wouldn’t offer it if it wasn’t,” he smiles shortly before the two of you say goodbye to the rest of the group and head to his van that was previously loaded with their stuff.

The ride back to your place is now much shorter, it takes less than ten minutes to arrive and you are just about to say goodbye when he speaks up.

“I want to apologize for the way I reacted to your arrival earlier tonight. It was… unnecessary.”

“It’s fine, I’m sorry for what I said after that too.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he shakes his head, staring down at his hands in his lap.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you shouldn’t be sorry for saying something that’s true.”

It feels like all air is knocked out of you as his words process and you stare at him with parted lips and raised eyebrows. When he finally looks up at you, he looks so lost and tortured, you feel the urge to hug him, but you stay still as he continues talking.

“I got mad because I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very… confusing for me. And this is why I’m gonna be very straightforward with you now. I can tell Sarah and Charlotte like you a lot and they are stubborn, they won’t see the situation from my point of view and I’m no one to tell you if you can hang out with us or not. But what I can most certainly tell you is that nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N. You are very much welcomed to spend more time with us, but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”

For a couple of moments you’re only able to stare back at him, blinking completely frozen at his sudden confession. You could tell tonight has been a turning point of some kind, but you were not expecting this speech from him at all and now you are at a complete loss of words. It takes some time before you actually find your voice.

“Okay,” is all you can breathe out, nothing more, but it’s pretty much all you have to tell him. You won’t go against his will and force him to do something he doesn’t want. He deserves the respect.

He nods shortly, seemingly still very torn about the situation and you figure it’s better if you just leave now.

“Thank you for the ride,” you quietly tell him opening the door. “Good night.”

“Good night, Y/N,” you hear him before you shut the door and walk into your building, feeling like you’ve been just hit by a pile of bricks.

Unlike the last time when Harry brought you home, Nat and Eden are not waiting for you in the living room. Nat is probably already asleep and Eden went out for a date earlier and she hasn’t been back. You don’t bother to turn the lights on as you walk inside, just kick your boots off and hang your coat before collapsing onto the couch, just staring into the darkness, Harry’s words repeating in your head again and again.

“… I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very confusing for me.”

“… nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N.”

“… but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”

Harry, your professor, The Harry Styles admitted that he likes you but also told you pretty forward that nothing is ever going to happen between the two of you. It still feels like a fever dream and you’re not sure how you are feeling about it just yet. Hanging out with him was already quite overwhelming, but you were not expecting this confession from him at all.

What are you supposed to do with this information? If he is so set on not taking any further steps, why did he even share it with you? He could have just easily keep his thoughts and feelings to himself and get away with it without you ever figuring it out. It doesn’t make sense.

For the first time in your life, something Harry Styles said doesn’t make sense. That’s new.

Following Harry’s confession you truly have no idea what to do, so you just go with the flow. He seemingly stays the same when it comes to you, friendly, but still keeping his distance. Nothing changes in the lecture hall, he just occasionally asks if you’re alright and you are guessing he only wants to know if you are having any trouble with Victor, but you haven’t even heard from him since you’ve blocked his number and you hope it’s going to stay like that.

You meet up with him and the band a few times outside of school and it’s not necessarily awkward, but you can tell he is keeping his distance from you, he never sits next to you or has one-on-one conversations with you, only if it’s necessary. The only time he dares to be alone with you is when he sometimes offers you to drive you home. You usually say no at first, but he insists, so you end up sitting in silence in the car until you arrive home, say goodbye and end of story.

No one in school even suspects that you’ve made your way into Harry’s group of friends, only Nat and Eden knows about it but they swore to keep it a secret, but you didn’t tell them about Harry’s confession. Whatever it is that’s happening between you and Harry, you would never put him into a situation he is trying to avoid so badly. You sit in his classes like everyone else, but while all the other girls are drooling over him, trying to get just slightly closer to him in any way possible, you sit in silence and think about the precious times when you get to see him outside of school.

Even with him being so distant towards you, you can’t help but slowly start falling for him. He doesn’t have to talk to you or be direct to you, it’s enough that you see him as himself, you see him with his friends, how he acts whenever he is not teaching, standing on the podium. And he is an amazing person, there’s no doubt about that.

The semester is gradually moving forward, once you get back from fall break, you basically move into the library, studying for your exams and finishing up all your papers. December arrives pretty fast and before you realize, the whole town is decorated with lights and Christmas trees everywhere, the shops are trying to lure customers in with all the sales and the Christmas shopping officially starts.

One weekend, when there’s only two weeks left of school before everyone heads home for the holidays, you and Nat go for a shopping trip, trying to buy every gift in time so you don’t have to worry about that at least last minute.

Wandering around the mall you naturally take a trip to the bookstore, always ready to buy something new to read. Nat dives into the cooking books wanting to get one for her mother while you’re just aimlessly looking through the shelves. As your eyes are running through the titles in the psychology department, you stop at one particular book, pulling it off the shelf as you can’t help but smile to yourself.

The secrets of Classical Conditioning.

You flip through the pages and though it doesn’t seem to be a groundbreaking work, it’s just explaining Pavlov’s experiment and further uses of it, you still decide to buy it.

That evening you sit at your desk, the book open in front of you, a pen next to it as you try to think of something to write into it. At first you just wanted to give it to Harry as it is, but you figured it would be a nice gesture to write a few words into it he could always read when he opens the book. After some consideration, you finally grab the pen and start writing.

-

Dear Harry,

I will always think of you whenever I hear of Mr. Ivan Petrovics Pavlov or Classical Conditioning. Thank you for another amazing semester and I’m happy I got to see you without standing on a podium. You are an amazing man, never change.

Happy holidays,

Y/N

-

Last week of school, you go to the Wednesday lecture, the last one of the semester with the book sitting in your bag. All through the 90 minutes class as Harry is having an open discussion about the lecture with the students, you keep debating whether you should give him the book or not. When the lecture is over and Harry wishes everyone happy holidays, you grab it from your bag and holding it to your chest you wait until there’s only a few people in the room. Eden has already left to hand in a paper so you walk down the rows on your own, eyes on the man behind his desk who is now packing up his papers and notes, getting ready to leave.

“Harry?” you faintly speak his name, grabbing his attention as he looks up at you from behind the desk. You glance down at the book in your hands and before you could change your mind, you place it down in front of him. “This is… for you.”

His gaze wanders down to the book, then back at you as he stares at you in awe, obviously surprised by the gesture.

“What’s this for?”

“Christmas gift?” you answer unsurely with a nervous chuckle. “I just saw it at the store and… thought of you.”

“Y/N, I can’t—“

“Yes you can and you will,” you roll your eyes at him, tired of hearing all these negations from him. He can’t, he won’t, he shouldn’t… for once, he definitely will if it’s on you. “Take it as my payment for the book you gave me.”

His eyes soften at you before he looks down at the book again, reading the title before he chuckles to himself.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he then finally says, accepting that you won’t let him return the gift under any circumstances.

“Have a nice Christmas, Harry,” you smile at him shyly, hands holding onto the strap of your bag as you start walking away.

“You too,” he faintly says and turning around you start walking, but then he stops you. “Y/N, wait!”

You stop in your track and face him curiously. He seems hesitant, stepping away from the desk, walking closer to you but still keeping some distance between the two of you.

“Do you… have plans for New Year’s Eve?”

“I, uhh—No, not yet.”

“If you happen to be back in town by then… Sarah is having this little get together. I have a feeling she already invited you, but if you said no because of me, I want you to know that it’s fine by me. Would be nice if you could come.”

He is right, Sarah did invite you over, but you kindly declined thinking Harry wouldn’t appreciate if you spent it with them. You wanted to give him a breather, have a night with his friends without having to avoid you all the time, but it seems like the situation has changed for him.

“You don’t have to invite me just because I gave you a gift, Harry.”

“It’s not about that,” he shakes his head softly. “I can tell you are getting along well with Sarah and all the others. I want you to know that I would never stand in the way and you are very much welcomed at any and all events.”

He seems and sounds genuine, you don’t see any sign of him just saying it because Sarah asked him to or something. No, this definitely came from him.

“Okay, I’ll… think about it,” you tell him with a warm smile. “See you around,” you wave at him before walking out of the room.

You don’t get to see his reaction to the words you wrote into the book and for a while, you’re not even sure he saw it. Maybe he took it home and put it on his shelf without even having a look into it, but two days later, when you’re already packing, getting ready to go home for Christmas, you get a notification that at first confuses you.

Breakfast is now following you!

You open Instagram with furrowed eyebrows as you go to the profile that just followed you. It’s a small account and private, of course and you almost close it thinking it’s just someone random when you see that it’s followed by both Sarah and Charlotte.

Could this be Harry’s profile?

The username is colazione8, it doesn’t give away much but now that you are thinking about it, it’s perfect if he wanted to stay unnoticed by his students that surely can use Instagram way better than him.

You tap on the follow request button and anxiously wait for an approval, hoping that the person behind the account is still online. You wait and wait, slowly losing hope but then the notification finally arrives. Your request has been approved.

You tap on the profile vigorously and three pictures appear in front of you. One is a picture of some random building, the first ever posted is a plate of nicely served breakfast of some sort and then there’s one that features the person you were desperately hoping to see.

It’s a picture of Harry sitting at a big dining table, a glass of wine in front of him as he is squinting his eyes towards the camera. You zoom into the picture just to make sure it’s him, but his features are clearer than daylight, it really is Harry that just followed you.

You’re still stalking his very private and not too eventful profile when you get a message from him, making your heart skip a beat.

Harry: Hey! Just wanted to thank you again for the gift, it’s really thoughtful. Read what you wrote in it… thank you, Y/N.

Y/N: I meant every word. Thank you for everything you did this semester!

It takes a few minutes for a response to arrive from him.

Harry: Are you already on your way home?

Y/N: Not yet, leaving tomorrow morning.

Harry: If I drop by your place in 20, can you come down for a sec?

Y/N: Sure!

Though your response seemed totally cool, you started panicking right away. What does this mean? Why is he coming here? Are you in trouble? You couldn’t be, you didn’t do anything wrong.

You quickly change out of your worn-out sweats and stained shirt, putting on a pair of jeans and a black hoodie, not wanting to see him looking like a total wreck. You sit on your bed, anxiously checking your phone every ten seconds to see if he has messaged you and those twenty minutes never seem to pass.

Then your phone finally chimes again.

Harry: I’m here.

Y/N: Be there in a sec.

You jump into a pair of trainers and grabbing your keys from the little sidetable you have in the hallway you storm out of the apartment, running down the stairs. As you walk out you stop in your track for a second, for some reason you were expecting the minivan, but this time, it’s a black Range Rover that’s parked in front of your building and Harry emerges from it the moment you step outside.

“Hey!” he smiles at you, shutting the door before he jogs around and you notice the little gift bag in his hands.

“Harry, is this what I think it is? Because you shouldn’t have, really,” you tell him right away as he stands in front of you, glancing down at the little bag in his hands.

“What? So you are allowed to give me a gift, but I’m not allowed to do the same?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

“But you already gave me one!”

“That wasn’t a real gift, so no,” he shakes his head, too stubborn to let it go. So instead, he nervously glances down at the little bag before handing it to you. “Here. Happy Christmas. But you can only open it when I’m gone, alright?”

“Why?”

“Just… please,” he breathes out and you not, keeping your curious hands to yourself.

“Alright. Well, thank you, Harry.”

“Sure. Um, have a great winter break and… I’ll see you around,” he smiles, walking around the car back to the side of the driving seat.

“You too, Harry. See you!”

You see him drive away as you walk back into the building, basically running up the stairs to your apartment, dying to see what’s in the little bag. Once you are locked in the safe haven of your room, you throw yourself to the bed and reach into the bag, finding a small box. One that’s usually used for jewelry. You pull it out with shaky fingers and take a deep breath before opening it.

Inside sits the cutest little silver ring you’ve literally ever seen. It’s thin and very detailed, tiny little strawberries lining next to each other and that’s the whole ring. Just the little strawberries, but it’s still the cutest you’ve ever seen. You put it on and it fits perfectly on your ring finger, holding up your hand you take a good look at how it sits on your finger. You’re in love with it.

Rolling to your back on the bed you stare up at the ceiling with a heavy heart aching for a man you know will never be yours, but you just can’t help it. The heart wants what it wants, right?

Reaching for your phone you type him a quick message

Y/N: Harry, thank you so much! It’s beautiful! But you shouldn’t have bought me anything!

Harry: I’m glad you like it :)

Y/N: I love it.

He doesn’t respond, just likes your message.

Christmas is always the same, especially because your family just never had those juicy dramas that could ruin any family events. Holidays have always been quiet and loving, pretty predictable. It’s good to be home again and spend quality time with your loved one, though your mind keeps wandering to a particular someone.

Sarah mentioned that Harry has traveled home to his mom and sister and from time to time you catch yourself thinking about what he could be possibly doing at the moment.

The only interaction between the two of you is when you post a photo with your sister and brother at Christmas dinner and he likes the photo, but nothing more. He doesn’t post or add to his story so you are left with your own elaborate fantasies of what he could possiblybe doing at home.

Sarah convinces you to spend the New Year’s Eve at hers and you are accepting the invitation a lot easier now that Harry has told you he is fine with you joining.

Just one day before the 31st you get back to your apartment and spend the second to last night of the year spiraling about the whole situation with Harry. Where are you two standing as of right now? Was his gift a gesture with a deeper meaning behind it?

You can’t step over the fact that you are not his student anymore. He has officially graded you and you’ve received your credits for his class, the ties are off, but he situation might still be risky and you doubt Harry is willing to change his mind about what he told you earlier. He made it clear that nothing will ever happen between the two of you, however you can’t help but feel a little hopeful that the new semester might bring a change into that.

After two hours spent in front of your closet and at least three mental breakdowns you finally decide to wear a black turtleneck dress which is just the perfect mixture of modest and sexy at the same time. You feel anxious to see Harry again, not sure how to act around him following your little gift exchange. There’s a chance he’ll just shut himself off once again and avoid you all night, you can’t tell.

Sarah’s place is already buzzing by the time you arrive, several guests are lounging in the living room and kitchen, some soft music is playing and it appears that everyone is enjoying the evening so far, judging from the laughter you hear from time to time.

“I’m so glad you came!” Sarah envelopes in a tight hug when you arrive.

“Thank you for inviting me. Here, brought some snacks,” you hand her the grocery bag you picked up on your way, not wanting to arrive empty-handed.

“Oh, you are an angel, some on in, make yourself home, take whatever you want to eat or drink!” she gestures around before bringing the bag into the kitchen.

The cozy home is already filled with a lot of people you don’t know, but you also spot Charlotte and Mitch right away so you take the safe spot in their little circle. You try your best to stay present in the conversation but you keep glancing around, looking for one particular person.

And then you finally see him. Harry emerges from the little hallway that leads to the bedroom and bathroom with Adam, seemingly deep in conversation as he nurses a beer in his hand. His checkered slacks and vintage printed t-shirt makes him appear so casual, if you didn’t know him you wouldn’t even guess that he is actually a professor.

Harry laughs at something Adam just told him and his eyes glide around the room until they find you standing near the kitchen. He stops in his track, gaze running down your figure before it returns to your eyes and he seems to be in awe, like he doesn’t entirely believe it’s you he is seeing even though he knew you’d be coming. There’s nothing you want more than to run across the room and throw yourself into his arms. You spent way too much time thinking about him during Christmas and seeing him in the flesh now is a mixture of feelings you can’t really describe just now.

Neither of you leaves the conversation you are in the middle, but you keep glancing towards each other. You’re nervously moving the strawberry ring around your finger, feeling his burning gaze on your figure all the time. You haven’t taken it down since he has given it to you, it partially made it harder for you to stop thinking about him, because the jewelry was quite a loud reminder every time you glanced down at your hands.

Two drinks later your sister calls you, as always she wants to say happy new year before the lines get hectic at midnight, so you move out to the small balcony facing the street as you talk to your sister. The spicy night air feels amazing on your heated up skin, the turtleneck dress was a good choice, but it’s definitely getting hotter with each drink, especially with Harry’s lingering eyes as well. When you end the call you decide to stay outside a little longer, take a few moments to yourself.

You jump a little when you hear the sliding door open and you’re surprised to see Harry walk out.

“Hey, thought you might need this,” he smiles softly, holding a blanket in his hands.

“Oh, thank you,” you mumble and let him wrap it around your shoulders. It provides just enough heat that your lips are not shaking anymore from the cold.

“What are you doing out here alone? Not enjoying the evening?”

“I am, I was just on the phone with my sister.”

“She’s older than you, right?” he asks and you tilt your head a little looking at him.

“How do you know that?”

“I, uhh… You have a lot of pictures with her on your Instagram,” he admits with a nervous chuckle.

“Have you been stalking my profile?” you tease him, but he clearly takes it way more serious than you intended it to be.

“No, I swear it’s not like that, I just—“ he stammers but you cut him off placing a hand on his arms that are crossed over his chest.

“Harry, I was just teasing you. It’s fine,” you assure him, giving him a gentle squeeze before you are about to pull your hand back, but his hold stops you. He takes your hand in his, gently bringing it closer to his face as he examines the ring sitting on your finger.

“You’re wearing it,” he breathes out, a small cloud emitting from his pink lips as his thumb softly runs over the ring.

“Of course. I told you I love it.”

You can’t ignore the shiver that runs down your spine at the feeling of his warm palm against yours, his thumb delicately running over not just the ring, but down your finger as well before he lets go of your hand. You already miss his touch.

“So, how was Christmas?” he asks clearing his throat.

“Good, nothing extra. What about yours?”

“Same, went home to the family.”

“Do you often visit them?”

“Not as often as I would want to, but I’m trying to go every couple of months.” Harry turns towards the street, eyes running along the not too busy road that stretches past Sarah’s building. His hand comes up to the railing, fingers slightly drumming on it. “How come you didn’t bring anyone tonight?”

“Well, my roommates are still home and I also didn’t think you’d like the idea to have another student of yours around.”

“Right, yeah,” he nods, but you can tell something else is still on his mind. “So… no boyfriend to bring?”

You give him a puzzled look. Is this his way of asking if you are seeing anyone at the moment? Because if it is, it’s kind of ridiculous.

“No, not really. I guess you can say I’m not looking for one actively.”

“How come?” he asks with raised eyebrows, his body turning towards you as he leans against the railing. You give him a ‘really?’ look. You think about getting a little sassy and teasing with him, but then decide to just be straightforward instead.

“Because I’m kind of into my Methodology of Cultural Anthropology professor.”

Harry’s lips part as his eyes pierce into yours and for a moment you really think that he is about to flip, tell me how dare you say such thing to him and curse you out, but a second passes and his gaze softens as he lets out a shaky breath.

“Y/N…”

“What? I just answered your question,” you innocently shrug, looking away from him. Despite this long and weird game the two of have been playing these past months, this is the first time you openly admitted that you have a thing for him.

“You know how complicated it is and I told you that nothing can happen.” He shakes his head in defeat, a hint of disappointment in his tone, but it just grinds your gears.

“What, so you can ask about my dating life but I can’t say that I’m into you? How is that fair?”

“That’s not the same.”

“Well I think it is. Both are highly inappropriate to bring up in our situation, don’t you think? Yet you’re trying to put all the blame on me.”

“Alright, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Let’s just… forget about it. I really don’t want to fight with you.”

“Because you’re afraid I might actually win?” you sassily reply, crossing your arms on your chest.

“I’m just trying to do the right thing, okay? Would you… let me?”

“If you haven’t realized it yet, I’m trying really hard to stay in my lane, but you’re not making it any easier.”

“I’m trying too, okay?” he growls, clearly losing his calmness at this point. “I’m really fucking trying, Y/N, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!”

“You’re the one making it hard!”

“It’s not my fucking fault I can’t stop thinking about you!”

“Well it’s not my fault either!” you snap at him, both of you raising your voice, the rest of the party oblivious about the screaming match the two of you are having on the balcony. “If you’re so set on not letting anything happen, why do you come to me and act the opposite?”

“The opposite?!”

“Yes! It’s not quite appropriate to gift your student with a ring or ask them about their dating life. Or is it all new information to you?”

“You started with the gifting!”

“So what? You could have just left it there, but you didn’t. It’s not that it didn’t make me happy, but don’t try to put all the blame on me for saying something when you’re already crossing the lines.”

Harry stares at you with a hard look and you’d pay great amounts to actually read his thoughts at this moment. His jaw clenches as he exhales sharply, eyes turning away from you, as if he couldn’t even bear to look at you.

“Make up your fucking mind,” you growl under your breath as you push your way past him and walk inside before he could get a word out.

For a well-respected, educated and smart man, Harry can act pretty fucking stupid, you think. He is not being fair and you will not apologize for anything you’ve said. If he doesn’t want anything to do with you, he needs to stay in his lane and not dance on the line, poking the sleeping lion. He doesn’t get to fuck around and then put all the blame on you, that’s just not how it works and he needs to learn that.

In the last hour that’s left until midnight you mingle with the guests and try to keep your thoughts of Harry at bay, though it’s quite the challenge since he lingers around you, keeping his eyes on you all the time, as if he is trying to piss you off or something, but you’re determined to be a mature adult and keep your composure.

You’re getting tired of this game and you’re not sure anymore if you are willing to wait around until Harry makes his mind up. Not when he doesn’t keep his own rules at least.

“Come on,” you mumble to yourself as you’re trying to open up a new bottle of wine, but the screw just wouldn’t move, no matter what you do. A hand reaches forward and wraps around the neck of the bottle, interrupting your pathetic misery.

“Let me help you.”

You let Harry take the bottle, biting into your bottom lip as you turn around and watch him easily open the bottle you’ve been fighting with the past ten minutes, he grabs your empty glass from the counter and fills it.

“Thank you,” you mumble when he hands it back and you take a sip right away. He places the bottle to the counter, fingers strumming on the surface before he takes a deep breath and speaks up.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“For what exactly?”

“For the way I acted. You were totally right, I called you out for things that I did myself too, that was unfair of me.” He clears his throat, leaning against the counter with his back side as he crosses his arms on his chest. It brings out how toned his arms really are and you give yourself half a second to drool over that before you take another sip from your drink, forcing yourself to keep your thoughts under control.

“Thanks for acknowledging it,” you mumble, not sure what to say exactly. The two of you stand like that in silence, eyes roaming the guests, something clearly weighing down on both of you, but it’s hard to name and address it.

You can tell he is overthinking, the gears are almost visible, turning in that smart head of his, but you don’t want him to go into depths he shouldn’t. He really is making a bigger deal out of the situation that it already is, but it’s going to wreck him.

“Okay, I want to know, what was the worst way someone tried to flirt with you?”

Harry turns to you with a puzzled look, but you just sip on your wine, waiting for his answer.

“Um, I don’t… really keep track of it.”

“Oh come on,” you give him a look. “I know you have a story. I wanna hear it!”

Your eyes meet and he is searching in yours, trying to figure out what’s the sudden change in your mood when an hour ago you were ready to throw him off the balcony. Truth is you are just frustrated, because the situation feels so impossible. You never had to deal with such an amazing man, knowing he is into you as well, but you just can’t have him. The struggle is hard for the both of you but you can’t blame him entirely. Hating on him because he is not willing to take a risk that could easily ruin his entire life but at least his academic career is just not fair and you won’t put him through that.

Harry sees where you’re coming from and he shoots you a thankful smile before it turns into a smirk as he looks down at his hands.

“Professor Davids from the department of linguistics asked me to be her date for her ex-husband’s wedding.”

“What?” you gasp with wide eyes. “For real?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “She started swinging by my office all the time, trying to chat me up and then one day she asked if I wanted to go with her, that we would be staying at this nice hotel and all… she really thought it was a good idea.”

“That’s very awkward,” you laugh, entertained by the thought that Professor Davids would go so low when it came to dating. “I assume, you declined the invitation.”

“Faster than ever,” he chuckles making you laugh even louder. “Okay, your turn.”

“What?”

“I told you an awkward story, now it’s your turn.”

“Um, the worst was probably a promposal I got.”

“A promposal?” he asks with a puzzled look, his forehead creasing as he pulls his eyebrows together.

“Yeah, when they ask you out to go to prom.” “Oh, yeah. Didn’t know it had a specific name.”

“Because you are way too British,” you tease him and he just gives you a narrow-eyed look, but you can see the smirk hiding on his lips. “Well, anyway, I was dating a guy senior year, but this other one was convinced he could win me over and take me to prom. He brought a fucking mariachi band to school and gave me a serenade in the middle of the hallway while my boyfriend was standing next to me. He asked me to prom so confidently at the end of the song, like he actually had a shot but it was so painfully awkward,” you laugh at the memory shaking your head and Harry joins, finding it quite entertaining.

“He really did that to himself.”

“He did, I felt bad a little, but what was I supposed to do?”

You slip into telling more and more awkward stories, staying in the kitchen you create a little bubble, the rest of the guests don’t seem to exist as you enjoy yourself with Harry. This is the most carefree and loosest you’ve ever seen him around you and you quite like this version of him. So easy to talk to and even funnier than his usual self.

A little before midnight Sarah runs around with champagne, filling everyone’s glass, getting ready for the countdown. You and Harry join Charlotte, Adam and his wife in the corner of the living room as everyone is slowly getting excited for the last moments of the year.

Looking around you see a lot of couples, holding hands, hugging, clearly planning to snog the moment the clock hits midnight and when you glance at Harry on your right you’re convinced he is thinking about the same thing.

You’re not naïve, you don’t think he is going to kiss you, but you still allow yourself to play with the thought just a little. He is standing so close to you, just the tiniest move and you’d be touching him, skin to skin again, feel him under your—

The thought is abruptly interrupted when you feel his warm palm wrap around your hand, your whole body freezing and for a split second you think it’s just an accident, that his touch will disappear before you could even blink, but it stays there. Harry maneuvers his fingers until they are laced together with yours and he keeps a firm hold of your hand, hanging between the two of you, staying hidden because you’re standing close to each other. Your breath catches in your throat and you’re afraid if you dare to move he’ll let go of your hand.

Another version of yourself would laugh hysterically at how worked up you are right now just because he is holding your hand, but the you that’s actually in the moment is about to burst just by this small touch. You have absolutely no idea what it means or why he chose to do it, but you don’t really care about it. You just want to absorb all the heat you feel coming from him where his palm meets yours, fingers braided together tightly, as if he is trying to keep you next to him, like he thinks you are about to disappear and it’s way of anchoring you to him, but truth is you don’t want to go anywhere.

“One minute, everyone!” Sarah sings in excitement as she turns on the TV and puts a huge clock on the screen that’s counting the seconds as well. You shyly glance to the side, finding Harry standing motionless next to you and when he notices you looking, his eyes meet yours. He looks terrified, like a lost little boy and you can’t tell if he is afraid of your reaction or because of what his actions might bring on him. But you want him to know that you are completely okay with where it’s heading.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!” The countdown begins and you inch closer to Harry so you’re pressed against his side, his body heat radiating into your skin even through the layers of clothes you two are wearing.

Harry leans down the moment you lift your head, his face is so close, it wouldn’t take much for you to finally kiss him, do the one thing you haven’t stopped thinking about for months.

“Y/N…” he breathes out and it’s a tortured plea, he is begging you to stop him from doing something he might regret, but you are dying for him to finally sin. You want him to give it up already, you have absolutely no desire to be the burden that keeps him in his lane. You need him to cross the line and stay there.

“I’m not stopping you, Harry,” you tell him quietly, the urge to close the distance between the two of you is burning inside you.

“Seven! Six! Five!” the countdown continues, but it all tones out, you can only see, hear and feel Harry.

“We can’t,” he whines, closing his eyes as he exhales shakily.

“We can, we just shouldn’t,” you correct him, his eyes snap open and meet yours again. You can tell he is so close to finally giving in and let his feelings and desires take control and you will not try to stop him.

His face inches the tiniest bit closer and his forehead is almost touching yours now, you can see every curly eyelash that frames his gorgeous green eyes that are now filled with fear and nerves.

“Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” Everyone screams together as the clock finally hits midnight while you just stare at Harry holding your breath, praying that he is finally ballsy enough to take this step.

“Harry, please,” you beg, not too proud of it, but you just can’t take it any longer. His hand is gripping yours tightly as he closes his eyes again and for a second you think that it’s gonna happen. He is going to give up the act and finally kiss you.

But right when the moment is burning the most… he pulls back and your heart sinks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hand lets go of yours and it feels like your arm is ripped off, tears are welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” you mumble under your breath, chugging down the champagne before making your way through the living room, determined to leave as soon as possible.

“Y/N, wait, where are you going?” you hear him calling after you, but you don’t stop. You get rid of the empty champagne glass and grab your coat from the rack, storming out of the apartment as if you had somewhere to be.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you run down the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. You hear the other pair of feet running behind you and Harry calling after you, but it’s not stopping you.

You push the front door of the building open, but it’s heavy, so it slows you down just enough that Harry can grab your wrist when you are about to start running down the street.

“Y/N, don’t go, let me explain!”

“No!” you snap at him. “I don’t fucking want to hear your explanation! I’m done, Harry! I’m fucking done! I was trying to be patient and respectful, I didn’t want to make it worse for you and let you do your thing, but you kept dancing back and forth and I can’t keep doing this, so I guess I’m sorry too.”

You’re choking on your own words that echo from the walls, the street is almost entirely empty, the world is still celebrating the new year while you’re at your breaking point. Harry stands in front of you, defeated and panic all over his face as he listens to you.

“I will not sit around and let you play your little games any longer, because you can’t make up your mind whether you want me or not.”

“Y/N I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life!” he snaps, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s the problem! This shouldn’t be happening, but I can’t fucking stop thinking about you, I can’t stop wanting you!”

“Then do something about it!” you beg through your tears.

“I can’t!”

“Yes you can!” you scream at him. “You can but you probably just don’t want me enough to actually do it! And it’s fine, but—“

You don’t get to finish your rant because Harry firmly grabs your arm, yanks you towards him and with one swift movement, his lips are crashing against yours.

It all happens so fast but your body reacts before your mind could process what’s really happening, fists bunching a handful of his sweater as you pull him against you, his hands flying up to your face, cupping them confidently as he kisses you hard and demandingly.

It’s like a fucking dam that’s been broken, everything you both kept bottled up and under control just breaks loose and it’s a kind of a wild fight for trying to devour each other now that all lines has been crossed an blurred into nothingness.

He is the dominant one, but you do some pushing and pulling on your own as well. You’re forced to take a few steps backwards, back arching at how forcefully he is pushing forward, lips smacking against each other over and over again, his tongue meeting yours, swirling and dancing around with yours, a shameless moan escaping your mouth.

His hands roam down your sides and you jumps when they reach the back of your thighs, legs wrapping around his waist. He keeps you up easily, fingers digging into your flesh where your butt meets your thighs and this angle allows you to be completely pressed up against him and feel every single inch of his body that burns for you.

It’s beyond anything you’ve ever imagined, you’re not sure it’s because of the build-up that led to this point or simply the chemistry you two got, but it blows your mind, making you question how you could go this long without ever kissing him.

“Harry, I want you,” you moan when his lips move down to your jawline, kissing and biting on the soft skin, tasting you wherever he can reach.

“I want you too, Y/N,” he breathes out resting his forehead against yours before kissing you again.

“Take me home then.”

“Are you sure?” he pants as you run your fingers through his hair and tug on his gently, earning a whimper from his perfectly pink and swollen lips. You love this satisfied dew on his face, especially because you know it’s because of you.

“Never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You unwrap your legs from around his waist and return to the ground, but not without him leaning down to kiss you once more before he grabs your hand and starts pulling you down the street. You spot his Rover right away and start sprinting, Harry following you right behind with a carefree laugh.

Settled in your seats he starts driving, but you can’t keep yourself away from him. His hand that’s not on the steering wheel is gripping your thigh as you lean over the console and start kissing his cheek, jawline and the corner of his mouth as one of your hands runs down his chest until it reaches his pants.

“Love, if you move further down we’re gonna crash,” he warns you with a shaky breath. “I drank a little too and I’m already fucking gone from kissing you, if you touch me I’m gonna lose it.”

You giggle, pressing one last kiss to his lips before sitting back in your seat. You need every bit of your patience and self-control to stay modest on the way back to his place. Hands gripping his you bring it up to your lips, kissing his knuckles gently as he speeds down the empty streets. It’s still barely over midnight, everyone is still celebrating, oblivious to how important this moment is to the two of you.

You really thought this would be the end. When he pulled away at midnight all hope was lost for you and it broke your heart to know that he will never choose you over his better judgment.

It’s your first time at Harry’s but you don’t really care to look around as the two of you make your way inside the townhouse, lips already melted together as you stumble through the dark hallway, not wanting to let go of each other. You successfully make it into his bedroom and Harry turns on the bedside lamp while you’re already eagerly getting rid of your coat and shoes. He does the same, clothes start to litter the hardwood flooring hastily, but neither of you is thinking about them. Harry scoops you into his arms once again, kissing your lips passionately as he bunches your dress up at your hips until he can finally grip the end of it and pull it over your head.

“Oh shit!” you giggle, the turtleneck getting stuck on your head for a moment before you’re free from it.

“That big head of yours,” he chuckles kissing your forehead.

“Shut up,” you smack his chest gently, pushing him down to the bed so you can straddle him, knees on his sides as you sit on his lap, lips meeting again.

He throws his hands up when you start pulling his t-shirt up and once the fabric is off of his body, his arms wrap around you, pulling you close to his chest. Your skin meets his and it feels heavenly, only little clothing separating the two of you at this point.

Harry scoots backwards and then throws you to the mattress, getting on top of you without your lips ever parting. His hips are pushed against yours and you can feel everything through the thin material of his slacks. Without even knowing you grind your hips, your core meeting his erection in the movement and he moans uncontrollably at the sensation.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against your lips and you can’t push your smirk down at his reaction.

“Yeah, fuck me, Harry,” you tease him before your lips get occupied once again.

His hands work fast. He unclasps your bra without you even noticing, the straps falling from your shoulders before he gets rid of it, throwing it across the room as if it did something against him. When his hungry eyes fall down on your naked chest you see the same kind of torture in his eyes that was there when he was fighting with himself before.

“Harry, stop thinking,” you tell him, fingers massaging his scalp as you lace them through his hair. “It’s fine, we’re fine.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he questions again and you pull him down for a reassuring kiss.

“One hundred percent. I want this. I want you.”

“Oh God, I want you so bad,” he whines again, lips kissing down your jawline, neck and collarbone before they attack your breasts.

He cups them, licks and bites them, making you a whimpering mess underneath him every time his tongue meets your hot skin. This man will be the death of you. As he moves down your body, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and he glances up at your for reassurance once again, you nod eagerly, lifting your hips so he can easily glide the fabric down and off of your body. Harry sits up, eyes burning down on your naked body lying in front of him as he undoes his own pants, pushing them down his long legs until they join the rest on the floor. You push yourself up when his hands move to his boxers, you want to be the one to take them off. He gladly backs his hands off when you reach out and start tugging them down. He kneels on the bed as you pull the fabric down and his erection finally becomes free, making you ache for him immediately. Once the boxers are out of the way completely you want to reach out to touch him, but he stops you, hands wrapping around your wrist before they could reach him.

Your eyes snap up to meet his darkened gaze, questioning why he stopped you.

“Y/N, I… If we do this, there’s no going back,” he breathes out with a pained look. You push yourself up to your knees so you meet his height, hands cupping his cheeks as you pull him into a sweet kiss that he hesitantly but returns.

“I know what you think about us, Harry, but I assure you, that I’m completely fine with it. But if you don’t want it to happen, we can just… lie here. I’m fine with that too. Kissing you was already such a gift for me,” you smile at him, gently pecking his lips.

“I just don’t want you to wake up and regret it. I’m not pushing you, right?”

“If anyone, it’s me pushing you,” you chuckle softly, a small smile tugging on his lips as well. “You didn’t push anything on me, alright? We are both adults and it’s completely fine. We’ll figure out the rest, I just want to focus on you now. Can I do that?”

Harry nods, still looking a little unsure, but you can tell he is starting to settle in his mindset. It’s not just him that worries about the other regretting something. You know how torn up he is about anything that’s about you and though you want him more than anything, you still don’t want to push him into doing something he is not entirely comfortable with.

“Do you want this?” you softly ask, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I do. I’m just—“

“Then it’s all good, Harry. We both want it, nothing else matters for now,” you tell him, wanting nothing else than to finally see him enjoy himself entirely. “Lay down for me,” you tell him, feeling like you taking the lead is a good idea now.

He does as you asked him to, lying down on the mattress, head sinking into his pillow as he blinks up at you, watching you swing a leg over him before settling to sit on his thighs.

“Can I touch you?” you ask, wanting to make sure he feels completely comfortable with you. Pleasing him is your number one priority right now. He nods, lips parting as he watches your hand reach out and wrap around the base of his erected length. He whimpers under your touch, his eyes fall closed when you gently pump him a few times, his cock fits so well in your palms, like pieces of a puzzle.

Leaning down you kiss his fern tattoos on each sides of his hips before placing one to his leaking tip, sliding your hands to the base before you slowly and gradually take him into your mouth.

You’re not planning to make him cum with your mouth, but you’ve been dying to taste him and it’s just as good as you imagined. The way his body reacts to your touch, the noises that leave his kissable lips, this man is completely out of this world and you want to explore every inch of his body.

You bob your head a couple of times, just enough to wet his length and work him up for what’s coming next. When you let him go of your mouth and you move a little up on his body so that his cock can be lined up with your hole, you look at him to see if he is still down to continue. One hand holding his cock, the other one flat on his naked chest, you ask him a question with your eyes that he answers with his hands squeezing your hips.

“I have the implant. Do you want to put on a condom?” you ask him at last.

“I trust you,” he breathes out. “Do you want me to put one on?”

“I want to feel you,” you tell him shaking your head.

“Okay,” he nods so it’s settled.

Leaning down you peck his lips one last time before you push the head inside and then slowly ease yourself down on his throbbing length.

“Oh fuck!”

“Harry, oh my God!” you both moan at the sensation of him finally entering you. You’ve had your fair share of sexual intercourses throughout your life, but none of them felt this good. None of them pleasured you this good so fast and easily, just the feel of him being inside you is making you lose your mind.  

You start off slow, wanting to feel him just right, get used to his size, but as soon as you feel more comfortable, you pick up a faster pace. His fingers are digging into your flesh at your hips as he holds onto you for dear life, panting and moaning at your motions. He glides in and out of you perfectly, setting your senses on fire practically.

“Harry, you feel so good,” you gasp, getting lost in the feeling. Sex has always been a good experience for you, but with Harry it’s a whole different story. As if he just opened a completely new world you never even knew about before.

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum for me?”

“Yes! Oh fuck!”

Harry pushes himself up, an arm coming around your back as he easily flips the two of you over, your back gently hitting the soft mattress. He holds himself up above you, lips crashing with yours as he starts to do the work this time, thrusting in and out of you, his hips smacking against yours forcefully as you both nearing the end.

“You’re making me lose my fucking mind, Y/N,” he cries out, head falling to the crook of your neck and you wrap your arms around him as a shield, holding him tight against you.

It doesn’t take long after that. He is hitting just the right spots, making you moan his name over and over again as your orgasm slowly devours you and washes over your whole body while he is still relentlessly moving.

“Harry! Oh… Fuck!” you gasp, legs and hands shaking and you clench your muscles around him, throwing him over the edge with you. He falls out of his rhythm, his cock twitching inside you as he moans against the hot skin of your neck, coming undone in your arms.

Nothing has ever felt this intense and mind-blowing and you’re now sure you’re addicted to him, there’s no turning back, not that you want that.

He collapses on top of you, still inside you, his body weighing down on you heavily, but it feels just fine. You run your arms up and down his sides, kissing the side of his head as you are both trying to catch your breath. It takes a few minutes for him to come back to reality with you, he lifts his head and moves to the side so he is not crushing you anymore, but an arm remains thrown over your abdomen. His vibrant green eyes are shining like never before when they meet your tired gaze and cupping his face in your palm you pull him in for a slow kiss where you finally have the time to actually taste him without the rushing of your own needs and urges.

“How are you feeling?” you softly asking, knowing well how major this was for him. You wouldn’t want him to spiral and start to self-destruct because of what just happened.

“I’m feeling fine,” he murmurs lowly, his fingers dancing on your naked side. “Just still a little torn if I did the right thing.”

“You worry too much. We did nothing wrong.”

“Not sure everyone would agree with that.”

“Fuck everyone else,” you chuckle and a smile tugs on his lips as well. “I will not feel bad for having the best sex of my life with a hot as fuck man I’m really into,” you bluntly tell him, earning a smug grin.

“Best sex of your life, huh?”

“Not even ashamed to admit,” you nod into the pillow. “How… was it for you?” you shyly ask, afraid his answer might disappoint you. But Harry pulls you closer until you’re pressed up against his chest, his lips capture yours, kissing you fiercely, making your heart skip a few beats for sure.

“Fucking amazing, baby. Probably the best I ever had too,” he admits, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you nuzzle against his chest once he has rolled to his back.

Silence comes over the two of you, you’re listening to his steady heartbeat, mindlessly drawing patterns over his chest. Lifting your head your eyes meet his and you can tell he has been thinking hard about what this all means for the future now.

“I’m in,” you simply tell him.

“Huh?”

“If you are thinking that I might not want to do this with you, that I just wanted a good fuck, that’s not what I think of this. If you want to give us a chance, I’m totally in.”

“You think we can make it work?” he quietly asks, his voice barely more than just a whisper.

“Of course,” you smile at him warmly. “You don’t?”

“I do, I’m just… there are so many things that can go wrong.”

“Then… we’ll make them right.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, clearly having a hard time to take it as easy as you do and you wish you could magically make all his doubts go away.

Sitting up you put your hands on each of his sides, looking down at him determined to bring out his confidence in the two of you.

“We just have to be patient and careful until I finish. Then we are basically free. That’s just one more semester. It could be way worse, we can make it work for a couple of months before we can finally do whatever we want. That doesn’t sound that bad, does it?” Harry shakes his head, reaching up he tugs your hair behind your ear before running his fingers down the side of your face.

“So we are really doing this?” he breathes out, a small smile on his sweet, pink lips.

“Well, I’m surely not giving up on this, we came a long way to be here,” you chuckle. “Question is, are you gonna give up on us? On… me?”

“Hell no,” he chuckles softly as he shakes his head. You smile down at him and leaning down you peck his lips tenderly.

“Then… we really are doing this.”

SEQUEL: 🌊 AN OCEAN AWAY 🌊

-

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #professor!harry #professor!harry au #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst

[simonsnowichooseyou]

This excellent essay was posted by @goodbyedandelion and reposted on Instagram—however their account sadly seems gone now. But it is in rememberence of their Tumblr spirit that I post a continuation to their essay!

EVEN MORE Reasons Why Carry On is so groundbreaking as a YA Fantasy/Romance

Misconceptions/Character Complexity

A large topic in YA Contemporary is gossip, but I feel like fantasy doesn’t touch on this as much. Think of how others perceive one another in Carry On. Early on we learn that Simon, for example, saw Penny as different because of her race. But of course, we quickly know this isn’t true.

But what about Agatha? In Harry Potter, for example, Lavender Brown and other feminine characters are often looked down upon because of their femininity. We often as a culture perceive beauty as overcompensation for what’s inside. Sometimes Agatha is looked at in the same light in Carry On, but when we see things from her POV, we realize that Agatha is perhaps the smartest one there. Maybe she’s not Penny Bunce-smart, but she has the survival instincts that Penny lacks.

Agatha isn’t the only one. Baz looks cold and unfeeling from others’ POVs, but we quickly learn that he is a boy with a soft heart that’s been hardened by his past. Everyone thinks he cares about nothing but we know he cares about his mother and how she’d feel about him; his father and step-mother and siblings; Simon, of course; Bunce, in his own way; he even cares about flowered suits and dramatic entrances! We think Bunce is nerdy and perhaps annoying, but we learn she’s very sweet and like a mother to Simon. And the mage. Ugh, the mage. We think he cares about Simon but we learn that for every bit he cares about Simon, he cares about the war more.

Rowell doesn’t allow any character to be simple, stereotypical, or as they appear. My sister, for example, was saying that Baz sounded like a stereotypical gay man in the media. But he’s not, is he? He might love fashion but Rowell does not make him simple or stereotypical. Everyone is so complex, and she uses the multi-POV to not just show us their complexity but also the complexity of how they are viewed by others.

Woman on Woman Drama/Anger

For years and years, only one woman was allowed to have a true seat at the table in films. Take Indiana Jones, the original Avengers, and Star Wars for example. This woman was often made to be the sex appeal or romantic interest, but I’ll save that for another day. Because of there only being one spot, it set a precedent that women in media needed to fight with each other to take that spot, thus depriving us of women getting along!

At first, I was worried Rowell had fallen into this trap. Bunce thinks Agatha is simple and too feminine, Agatha thinks Bunce is a major pain in the ass. Their dislike for one another is complicated in that they’re essentially two different types of feminism battling it out, and half of their fight was about Simon and their roles in his life.

But in the end, Penny and Agatha create a relationship that exists outside of their relationship with Simon. Penny sees Agatha’s strength and resilience; Agatha recognizes Penny’s harsh exterior for what is is. When Agatha moves away, they text without his even knowing. Penny is the one that decides they need to check on and save her. In the end, penny and Agatha fight alongside one another.

Rowell didn’t just give us a feminine friendship—she showed us what we’ve been doing, and how to get from Point A to point B. I think it’s the most underrated part of the series.

True Friendship

It might sound bad, but I truly believe a lot of today’s media ruins the idea of friendship. I just feel like none of the portrayals are realistic. Friends are either joined at the hip and have never fought (toxic) or never get along (also toxic). The fact that Baz and Penny and Simon and Penny and Agatha and Penny can get into fights but still continue to love one another platonically is really heartwarming to me.

Trauma/Mental Illness

I remember getting to the end of Harry Potter and thinking “he went through all of that and we’re just supposed to leave him now?” We see some remnants in the most cursed play ever: The Cursed Child. But more than trauma we see someone who looks back on the days they risked their life everyday with *longing.* While that’s about the most Harry Potter thing Harry Potter has ever done (and the most canonical part of that play) it’s so unrealistic. You’re telling me Harry grew up with nothing and was an amazing father—minus a few spats with his son. You’re telling me Harry was able to hold it together emotionally after fighting for his life from ages 11-18 without a therapists help? You’re telling me Harry lost two father figures in the ministry of magic AND spent 7 years going through what amounted to a lesson titled “the government is corrupt” just to be a part of that government!?

Wayward son isn’t like that. Wayward Son shows us what happened to Simon afterwards, and it’s not peaches and cream. He had therapy, he quit therapy. A lot of us have been Simon on that couch, and we all needed the Baz in our life to drag us across a metaphorical America. Wayward Son is hands-down my favorite book. Realistic depictions of mental illness, check. Subverting our expectations of after the end, check. Reading it feels like taking a road trip, check.

As OP mentioned, Simon is a beloved chosen one because he’s just so wrong for the role. He’s not levelheaded where he should be, he’s bold in all the wrong places, he couldn’t possibly maintain a professional relationship with the coven. Meanwhile his super-hot enemy Baz was the absolute perfect choice to be chosen, but he was completely passed over. And part of this chalks up to how Simon became so powerful—fate isn’t twisting its whims this way and that. Simon is only chosen because he was a Petri dish experiment-gone-wrong baby. When Simon asks the fates why, really he should be asking the mage. There’s something delightful about the fact that Simon was made. The chosen one was made, and in the same process, so was the greatest threat.

De-escalation

I think it’s clear by now that Carry On is a great book, Simon Snow is an amazing series, and Rainbow Rowell sure can write. But I feel the need to point out that the end of Carry On wasn’t well-received by everyone. I recommend the series to everyone I know and some people are really disappointed you don’t get a big magical battle at the end. Some people think Simon filling in the humdrum was a cop out. But I disagree. I felt it was thrilling to witness a book where war was as stupid in fantasy land as it can be in real life. This is the first fantasy I’ve ever read where they find a better way to handle conflict than senseless fighting. It’s emotionally rewarding, to me, to see de-escalation. To see conflicts fixed before they start to be huge problems. It was a risky choice for an end, you have to admit. But Rowell pulls it off amazingly.

Nothing is Wrapped in a Bow

A day will never go by without me thinking about the fact that Simon Snow Salisbury doesn’t know who his parents are. Or how Baz will never know what exactly happened with his mother—whether she really ended herself to avoid vampirism and whether she would’ve done it to her too. We’ll never even quite understand the mage’s plan behind fix the humdrum and get an all powerful boy wizard on his side. Rowell doesn’t wrap everything up. She gives you closure as often as she gives you something to ponder. The ending of Harry Potter was so controversial, I think, because it spelled out so clearly much of what was happening. And what you didn’t learn in that epilogue, Rowling released later through Pottermore and interviews. That’s fine and dandy—but there’s something to be said for ending Simon Snow’s books with questions. Not infuriating questions but rather things that I’ll always ponder—that will shed new light on different situations depending on how I look at them. Rowell sets a precedent that you can fill in Simon’s world with your imagination while also reminding us that life doesn’t have endings. Not really, the way books to. Rowell is one of the few writers of today’s fantasy, I’d argue, who’s okay letting things go unanswered. There’s always a thread of fantasy and magic going. It’s something that will keep Simon alive in my heart for many, many years to come.

So yeah, that’s what I think about when I think about Simon Snow. It’s not nearly as coherent as the original post but I hope you enjoy it.

#carry on rainbow rowell #simon snow #simon snow series #baz grimm pitch #carry on #simon snow salisbury #baz #any way the wind blows #baz pitch supremacy #co/ws #simon snow supremacy #penny #penny bunce #shepard from omaha #shepard #agatha wellbelove #fiona pitch #lucy salisbury #awtwb #carry on wayward son #wayward son

[superfreakerz]

TDDUP 34

Chapter 34

Jealousy

Natsu felt the familiar feeling of his gut coiling as Lucy stepped out of her last class with Hibiki. Every time he picked her up, the boy was right behind her, smiles on both of their faces. He hated seeing them talk so normally together.

When Lucy's eyes finally landed on him, she rushed up to him. Only this time, Hibiki followed after.

"Natsu, this is Hibiki," Lucy said, gesturing to the playboy.

"You must be the lucky man who stole this beauty's heart!" Hibiki chimed in. "I'm jealous!"

"Me too," Natsu thought, his fingers itching to punch the other boy. "Hey, I'm Natsu."

"I've heard a lot about you! Like how she can see-"

Lucy slapped the boy's arm. "Don't tell him!"

Natsu's eyes widened as he saw the blush that was spread over his girlfriend's face. Usually he loved seeing her blush. Only this time, he wasn't the one to cause it. He could tell that the two were close. Abnormally close in such a short amount of time. His blood boiled as he tried to take calming breaths, but as the seconds ticked by, his anger started to pile up.

"Lucy, let's go," Natsu said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Oh, okay!" Lucy replied. She was oblivious to her boyfriend's sour mood as she waved goodbye to her friend before following Natsu to Fairy Tail. When they reached the pub, they found the rest of their friends sitting at their usual table rather than in the basement.

"Hey, guys!" Lucy greeted. The group ushered their own greetings as she and Natsu took their seats.

"How was class?" Levy asked.

"It was good. I have a test coming up. I should do fine on it though since Hibiki can help me out."

"Hibiki?" Erza asked. "Who is that?"

"Oh, he's a new friend that I made! He's in all of my classes."

The group all glanced at Natsu, who was sitting with his arms crossed against his chest. A vein ticked in his forehead, his brows pushed together in frustration. How Lucy was blind to it, they didn't know.

"He's going to help you study?" Gray asked, continuously glancing between Natsu and Lucy.

"Yeah. He's the smartest guy in all of our classes. It's like he somehow knows everything."

The group tensed as Lucy went on and on about her classmate, all the while knowing how it was affecting Natsu. It wasn't like they could blame her. They knew that she was inexperienced when it came to dating, so she was probably unaware of just how jealous a boyfriend could get. Not to mention they knew she was anxious about making friends. She was probably just proud of herself for being able to do so on her own after lifetimes of isolating herself from the world. No, it wasn't the girl's fault for Natsu's jealousy. Nonetheless, that fact didn't help relieve the tension in the air.

Gray cleared his throat before rising from his seat. "Uhh, I'm gonna head to the basement. I have some stuff I gotta do."

Lucy watched in confusion as everyone else in the room all agreed with him, saying a quick goodbye before dashing towards the basement, leaving her and Natsu alone.

"What was that about?" Lucy asked, turning her head to face her boyfriend. His eyes held a dark glimmer, his brows furrowed. He didn't look at her, nor did he reply. "What's wrong, Natsu?"

He didn't answer at first. Lucy was worried that he wasn't going to at all until she heard him mumble.

"It's about Hibiki," he said, his voice gruff.

She raised a brow. "What about him?"

"I don't like him."

And just like that, the veil that was covering Lucy's eyes was torn away. "Oh. You're jealous."

Natsu glared at her. "It's because I know what kind of guys you used to be into. Smart, handsome, princely guys. I'm not like that."

"Natsu-"

"He's everything that you love and I'm not. I'm loud, I'm always picking fights with people, I don't read, I have pink hair-"

"Natsu, stop," Lucy said, her voice soft. She placed a hand on his back, rubbing him gently. "Look, I know I used to dream about a knight in shining armor sweeping me off my feet when I was a little girl. But ever since I met you, I've learned that it's so much more fun being with the rambunctious dragon instead."

Natsu glanced at her, his eyes softening. "Really?"

"Duh. You don't need to be quiet or studious. And you are smart, by the way. I love you just the way you are. Nothing's going to change that."

Natsu bit his lower lip with a frown. While Lucy's words sounded pretty, they weren't enough to convince him. Not when he knew he had to eventually go back to the basement. He would no longer be able to pick her up from class, take her to her favorite restaurant, break into her apartment. Hell, he wouldn't even be able to go out and buy her a gift whenever he wanted to.

What could he possibly offer her? Sure, he had maybe a good ten years before he had to go back to the basement, but what then? While her body would grow, his would stay the same. Surely that would weird her out eventually. Marriage and kids were faraway dreams with immortals, especially when they were with a mortal. There was a reason relationships between the two seldom worked out. It was because it was hard. Not just hard. Nearly impossible.

Why would Lucy choose to put herself through that when she could be with someone normal? Someone like Hibiki, who checked all of her boxes. Someone who could grow with her. Someone who could promise her a ring, children, hell, even a house. Someone normal.

He wasn't normal. And he never would be.

Lucy frowned, seeing as how her words didn't have the effect on him that she wished for. Something told her that it was more than simple jealousy. She had been jealous before, and while the feeling was irritating, it was nothing like the emotions displayed on the boy's face.

"Hey, what's going on?" she asked, her voice quiet. "You seem really upset. Not just jealous."

Natsu contemplated telling her. He wanted nothing more than for her to tell him that none of those things mattered. That no matter how hard it was, she wanted to endure it with him. But deep down, he just didn't believe it was possible. A life with him required multiple sacrifices. Sacrifices that he didn't want to ask of Lucy. He was scared that if he told her honestly of the repercussions that came with dating him, she would open her eyes and realize that her future wasn't with him and that there were others in the world far more capable of giving her what she wanted.

He wasn't the one who could give her what she wanted. No matter how badly he wanted to.

"I-I gotta go," Natsu said, shooting out of his seat. Tears pricked his eyes as Lucy looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Sorry, Lucy. I need to be alone."

Ignoring her pleas to stay, Natsu booked it for the door. He knew that if he went to the basement, she would follow him. So instead, he let his legs wander on their own as he rushed out to the paved streets of Magnolia.

Lucy frowned as she contemplated what she should do. She debated chasing after him, but she knew that there was no use. Natsu was fast, much faster than her. If he didn't want to be caught, then there was no way she was going to be able to catch up to him. She thought about going home and waiting in her apartment, but then she worried about him not coming over. She didn't want whatever he was feeling to build up over the night. So, she headed to the basement, where she knew he would have to eventually come back to.

Mira wasn't at the bar like she usually was. Since finding out about her past, Lucy also asked about the pasts of her other friends to make sure that she wouldn't unknowingly trample over their feelings by dredging up horrible memories for them. She learned all about the scientists who experimented on Erza and Jellal. She learned about how Gajeel and Juvia were chased out of their homes, all the while having stones thrown at them on the way out. She learned about Levy and Natsu having to watch their loved ones die while there was nothing they could do to help.

She learned all about the bad things that came with immortality, but she had also learned of the good. Like how Erza and Jellal led an uprising, liberating themselves along with hundreds of other immortals. How Gajeel and Juvia were able to meet each other while on the run, becoming each other's first real friends. She heard all about how Levy's best friends did all they could to help keep her secret and eventually found Mavis, who introduced Levy to Fairy Tail. And she learned about what Natsu considered the high point in his life.

The two were sitting in Natsu's room, discussing everyone's pasts. He had just finished explaining that while there were drawbacks to being immortal and living in Fairy Tail, there were also upsides for each of them.

"And what's the upside for you?" Lucy had asked.

Natsu's cheeks tinged pink as he averted his gaze. "...I got to meet you."

Reaching Natsu's room, Lucy glumly opened the door to find Gray chilling on his bed, listening to music.

"Lucy?" Gray glanced over her shoulder. "Where's Natsu?"

"He left," the girl answered, wringing the bottom of her sweater. Tears welled in her eyes as she remembered the distraught look on her boyfriend's face as he ran. Ran from her.

Once Gray noticed the tears in her eyes, he jumped to the worst possible conclusion. "Left? As in broke up with you?"

Lucy matched his gaze, shaking her head quickly. "No! At least, he didn't say anything about that…" Truthfully, she had never been broken up with before, so part of her wondered if maybe it could have happened without being outright said. "I don't think he broke up with me. He said he needed to be alone."

"Was he mad about Hibiki?"

"It was more than that. He looked devastated. Was that really just jealousy?"

Gray rubbed the back of his head. He had a pretty good feeling as to what Natsu was thinking. After all, it was the main reason immortals were advised against dating mortals. There was no happy ending, just obstacle after obstacle. Knowing that Natsu probably had a reason for not talking to her about it, he decided to keep that information to himself. That was something that needed to be discussed amongst themselves.

"Jealousy tends to hit harder for immortals," Gray said instead. It wasn't a lie, though it wasn't the full truth either.

"Why?" Lucy asked.

"We tend to lose a lot of the people we love over the years. Our friends, our parents, our siblings, and in some people's cases, even their own children. Being born immortal into an immortal family, while it has happened before, is extremely rare. We have no choice but to watch the people we love grow without us and die."

"What does that have to do with jealousy?"

"Well, think of it this way. After losing so many people, it's really hard to form deep bonds with other people. You get closed off after a while. It happens to all of us. So, when we eventually find someone that breaks down those walls, it's hard to share them. People get jealous because they don't wanna lose someone, right? Well, after losing so much, it makes sense that we'd be scared of losing yet another person to somebody else."

Lucy nodded slowly. "I guess that makes sense. But how do I help him? I told him that I loved him no matter what, but it was like he didn't believe me. I-It hurt."

Gray patted the spot on the bed next to him. When Lucy sat beside him, he slung an arm over her shoulder and gave her a grin.

"Just wait it out," he said. "Natsu will come back here any second, and when he sees you here, he's going to realize that he has nothing to worry about. You want to be with him, right?"

"Of course!"

"Then it'll work out the way it's supposed to. The two of you just need to go with the flow. Don't stress too much about it, okay?"

Lucy nodded, but she couldn't help but worry still. Glancing at Natsu's empty bed, she wondered what he was up to.

Natsu shivered as a cold gust of wind washed over him. Sitting at the park on a winter night probably wasn't the best idea, but he had to get away. He needed some space to collect his thoughts. It honestly helped a little. The cold air helped him clear his head, while the silence helped calm him down. He was still upset, but not nearly as much as before.

Picking up a blade of grass, Natsu absentmindedly twirled it in his fingers. While his emotions were in check now, he still couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen in the future with Lucy. No matter how badly he wished he could ignore it, the hard truth was that perhaps their lives just weren't compatible. That maybe their friends were right to be wary of him dating a mortal.

Sure, Lucy wasn't just a normal mortal. Her reincarnation did help a little, but it didn't change the fact that there were still going to be countless obstacles between them. What was going to happen after she died? What if she found someone better for her in her next life and chose not to seek him out? How was he supposed to be able to find her in the vast world? How were they going to go years without talking while Lucy dealt with being reborn as a newborn? It was all too hard. The chances of them working out were slim. It was a hard pill to swallow.

Natsu ran his finger over the blade of grass. It was smooth, reminding him of Lucy's hair. He pictured all the times he ran his fingers through her hair. The way that she would shoot him a smile and lean into his touch. He wondered what she looked like now.

"She's probably crying."

Guilt ebbed at him. He knew that he was causing her pain, and to make it worse, he wouldn't even talk to her about why. It was just hard to tell her that deep down, the real reason he was jealous of Hibiki wasn't because of his looks or his personality, it was that the other boy could give Lucy a life he couldn't.

It was that deep down he believed that Lucy deserved someone like Hibiki instead of someone like him.

It wasn't often that Natsu and Lucy fought- though he didn't really consider this a fight. He recalled the first time that they had fought, when Lucy had broken up with him because their relationship was too hard. It was back when they didn't know each other's secrets. Every time they had to lie to each other, the stress built up until finally she broke. She had already ended things with him once because of the obstacles that their relationship faced. How could he expect her not to do it again when it was only going to get so much worse?

Then again, even if she had broken up with him, they had gotten back together only hours later thanks to Gray giving him advice. He remembered the words he told him.

"Look, your relationship with Lucy isn't easy. She's a mortal and you're an immortal, there's bound to be some fights that happen because of it. But in all the time I've known you- and really think about how long that is- I have never seen you as happy as when you're with Lucy. Even if it wasn't your fault, are you really willing to lose her now?"

Natsu sat up, drawing a long sigh. He wasn't willing to lose her. At least not on his own account. If later in the future Lucy decided that she couldn't put up with his immortality, he would have no choice but to accept that. Until then, he wanted to enjoy every second he could with her. He especially didn't want to make her upset.

Rising to his feet, he dusted his pants off before rushing to Lucy's apartment. Using his spare key, he quickly checked the apartment for the girl, only to find that she wasn't there. Knowing the only other place she would be, he locked her apartment before hurrying to Fairy Tail. He rushed down the stairs, down the hallway until he bursted into his room. There, he found Lucy sitting on his bed while Gray sat on his own. He could easily make out the swelling of her eyes.

"I'm gonna go get some food to eat," Gray said, excusing himself so that the two had time alone.

Once he was gone, Natsu rushed over to Lucy's side, bringing her in for a long hug. He held her tightly, breathing heavily. Her scent washed over him, bringing him comfort in ways that nothing else could. He could feel Lucy tremble against him as she brought her arms around him.

"I'm sorry for making you cry, Lucy," he said, rubbing circles over her back.

She pulled away, looking up at him through teary eyes. "I'm sorry for upsetting you too. I didn't know that me hanging out with Hibiki bothered you so much."

Natsu shook his head. "No, don't worry about that anymore. I'm fine. You're free to hang out with anyone you want, I have no control over that."

"But-"

"I mean it, Lucy. I shouldn't have gotten so jealous."

Lucy gave him a hard stare. "Was it really just jealousy? You seemed really upset."

"It was just jealousy. It's hard seeing other guys trying to flirt with you. But I trust you, I promise. I'm okay. Are you okay?"

Lucy nodded. "I'm okay now. I'm just glad you're not upset anymore."

Natsu hugged her again. He decided to keep the truth to himself. He knew that it was bound to come up again in the future, but he was going to let future Natsu deal with it. For now, he wanted nothing more than to get over it and make Lucy happy. He had no idea that the time his problems would resurface would be so soon.

A week later, Natsu picked Lucy up from class, just as he always did. He was no longer so upset about Hibiki. In fact, he even had a few conversations with the other boy whenever he would pick her up. The two waved towards Hibiki before heading to Fairy Tail.

"Are you sure you're okay being around Hibiki?" Lucy asked, her brows drooped in concern. "I can walk myself home if it's too much."

Natsu playfully nudged her with a grin. "For the hundredth time, Luce, it's fine. I'm over that now. Hibiki isn't too bad."

Lucy smiled, interlocking their hands. Ever since that night, she could tell that something was bothering Natsu deep down, no matter how much he denied it. It no longer seemed like it was about Hibiki, but she had no clue what it was. Still, she didn't want to push him. She knew that he would open up to her eventually. Until then, she would be patient.

Reaching Fairy Tail, the two glanced towards their usual table to find that it was being occupied by strangers. Natsu led the way to the back of the pub, heading down the stairs. When he reached the bottom, he found that Mira was behind the bar as usual, but instead of greeting him with her normal cheerful grin, she was being wrapped in Cana's arms as she clutched her chest tightly.

Natsu was about to rush over to Mira to ask what was wrong when he found a large group gathered in the lounge. Every immortal was crowded around, even Laxus and his gang, who usually chose to spend their time either exploring the outside world or locked in their rooms as they weren't the most sociable people.

The crowd murmured, their tones serious. Curious as to what was going on, Natsu pushed past the crowd until he found a boy in the center of the group. He was dressed in black slacks and a white button-up shirt along with a black blazer. He wore a nice watch, something that Natsu was sure he himself could never afford from the looks of it, along with shades to cover his eyes. His hair was long and spiky, a bright shade of orange. The look on the other boy's face was serious. Angry, even. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his stance rigid and on guard.

Natsu turned around to find that Lucy had stopped in her tracks at the edge of the crowd, her eyes wide and her jaw slacked. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she ushered only one word, her voice soft and shaky.

"Loke?"

#fairy tail #nalu #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #ft fanfic

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 313: Deku VS Lady Nagant

Previously on BnHA: Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai Lady Nagant showed up to fire a cupid’s arrow into my heart, and a bunch of literal bullets into my son. Deku was all “oh shit it’s Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai, what do I do, let me think back to Hawks’s advice for a sec.” Flashback!Hawks was all “anyway Deku so if my super-hot badass murder senpai ever shows up you’re basically screwed so you’d better abscond the fuck out of there.” Present!Deku was all “lol idek why I flashed back to that conversation since I’m just going to do the exact opposite of what Hawks said” and charged directly toward Nagant because WHY NOT. Overhaul was all “waah I need to get back to my boss who I put in a coma out of love” and Nagant was all “jesus christ why did I even bring you here” and had a flashback to AFO who was all “ILU NAGANT IMMA GIVE YOU AN EXTRA QUIRK SO PLEASE CAPTURE DEKU FOR ME PLEASE AND THANKS” and yeah. Shit is all over the place right now and I love it.

Today on BnHA: All Might gets attacked by a pair of discount assassins and is all “Call an ambulance! ...BUT NOT FOR ME” and it’s really badass but also I really wish he would stop tempting fate like this. Lady Nagant is all “[casually flies around town shooting shit]” and I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t read an entire chapter of just that. Deku is all, “[gets shot (≥_<)]” and releases a giant Smokescreen which prompts En to show up. En is all, “( •᷄⌓•᷅ ) (⌣̀ Δ⌣́) ( •̀_•́ )σ (¬､¬) (눈_눈)” which I consider to be a high point of both the chapter and of my life. The chapter ends with Deku using the Third’s quirk to launch a bunch of random objects at Nagant so that he can jump up and grab her arm all sneaky-like, and I’m sure this is going to prompt another week’s worth of discourse that I don’t care about at all, but fuck it, I’m having a good time.

OH WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO ALL MIGHT WELL THAT’S NICE I GUESS. CONGRATS ON NOT BEING DEAD

you named your car??

you named it Hercules??

I love you so much??

please marry me you giant fucking dork???

lmao speaking of huge fucking dorks

who the fuck are you clowns. la dee da we’re gonna murder All Might with our synchronized spear attack!! I mean... they’re clearly trying their best... maybe I should just be nice and politely hype them up like All Might is so clearly trying to do

like okay, but we all agree that this is actually the least intimidating attack any of us has ever seen, right?? these guys zipped up their hoodies all serious-like and are trying to attack All Might and Hercules with their Walmart tiki torches, but just, no?? right?? like the only way this could possibly be effective is if they were trying to kill All Might with secondhand embarrassment

“those are assassins” this is a VERY generous assessment, All Might

OH MY GOD THE TIKI TORCHES ACTUALLY KILLED THE FUCK OUT OF HERCULES

[slaps roof of car] this baby can fit so many weaponized festive backyard lighting solutions in it

and yet, even after watching this with my own two eyes, I still can’t take these dudes seriously. idek what it is. anyways r.i.p. Hercules, I loved you a lot but I guess you weren’t actually a very good armored car were you

omg they didn’t know it was All Might??

okay 1) for a moment there I was like “oh hey maybe they’re not so bad after all” but then a moment later it was like “ah nope, they are.” like, that was an interesting .06 second emotional journey there. anyways 2) All Might you have my permission to kick their asses for this disrespect, and 3) anyone else all of a sudden getting “wouldn’t this be an interesting time for Stain to suddenly show up” vibes?? no?? just me???

(ETA: hmm tbh I’ve still got those vibes and they haven’t gone away lol. Stain?? you out there buddy?? do you want to be cool for just once in your life. ball’s in your court pal.)

OH SNAP ALL MIGHT ARE YOU REALLY GONNA DO IT ARE YOU GONNA KICK THEIR ASSES

PROTECTIVE DAD MODE ACTIVATED?? BECAUSE YOU KNOW I’M HERE FOR THAT SHIT, SO YEAH, FEEL FREE

omg he’s shouting at them about how much Deku has suffered lmao and they’re just like falling over from being scolded

so they have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about though, right? “SIR THIS IS A WENDY’S” well whatever, you killed his pet car so he’s in a bad mood now

OH MY GOD

LIKE, JUST SO WE’RE ALL CLEAR, THESE FOUR PAGES SO FAR HAVE MADE ALMOST ZERO SENSE. LIKE MAYBE 2% SENSE TOPS. BUT ASK ME IF I CARE. GO AHEAD AND ASK. I SAID GO AHEAD, IT’S OKAY. ...NO I DON’T CARE AT ALL THANK YOU FOR ASKING

(ETA: also, the more I look at this panel, the more I’m just like, why the hell would you phrase it like that though, sob. way to doubly tempt fate?? are you trying to give Horikoshi a challenge??)

and now back to Deku who is randomly bouncing around the city and narrating it to himself just in case he was confused about why he was doing this

who are you talking to Deku. but thanks we appreciate it

man you gotta love that overconfidence. the smartest guy in the world warned you away from this lady, so SURE, LET’S RUN RIGHT UP TO HER. “I APPRECIATE YOUR INPUT, FLASHBACK!HAWKS, BUT I’LL TAKE IT FROM HERE” well okay then!!

I think it would be funny if RHA.com put little Buzzfeed-style polls in between the chapter pages so they could survey people at random intervals as they read their way through the chapter. like, you finish this page and then there’s a little poll there asking “do you think Deku’s plan of catching up to Lady Nagant and finding out where Shigaraki is will work?”, and you click “no” just like everyone else and then nod as the results show that 97% of your fellow readers also picked “no”, and you chuckle to yourself wondering how many of the 3% accidentally clicked on the wrong option by mistake, and then you keep on reading

ANYWAY, SO

HOW’S THAT PLAN WORKING OUT FOR YOU SO FAR DEKU. nice kick, though!!

omggggggg

ouch

update: Deku’s plan not really working out. sources tell me my boy has been fucking shot. this is an ongoing story and we will keep you posted with the latest developments as they come in

wait what

feel free to explain to the rest of us what all of this “UNLESS...” and “THAT POSSIBILITY...” shit means anytime, Deku

oh lol did he realize she could fly??

BREAKING NEWS UPDATE, CNN’s John King reports that Deku is still fucked. eyewitness reports now coming in that Nagant is doing no-look shots and basically not even giving a fuck. sources described her mannerisms and expression as “sexy, but in like an effortless sort of way.” we will continue to bring you the latest

so now there’s basically an entire page of Deku being all “ah fuck so she’s basically closing in and she could already hit me with impossible accuracy even from Far Away, so if that’s the case then her being Up Close is probably going to be even worse!” making good use of that Big Hero Brain there, Deku

so now what, you’re doing some kind of spiraling kick thing?? how is that going to help

oh lol he’s using Smokescreen to create some cover. aww, good for you Deku you named one of your Smokescreen attacks

OH NO LADY DON’T TELL ME AFO DIDN’T EVEN FILL YOU IN ON THE BASICS

seriously, AFO?? you basically told her what Deku’s exact strategy was going to be but then couldn’t be assed to drop that little, small, barely notable piece of knowledge that Deku is rocking multiple quirks?? is it supposed to be a secret or something?? you dropped the ball here man

damn this is getting intense now

(ETA: the way En is poking Deku’s head in that first panel is fucking sending me, I love this guy so much omg.)

well then what are you planning, Deku?? I’m actually really curious!! I am genuinely starting to be invested in this fight scene not only in the “wanting to see who wins and how that impacts the plot” sense, but also in the “wanting to see how it happens because the choreography and strategy is actually pretty cool” sense, which honestly hasn’t happened for quite a while now! this is fun

anyway so what’s up Deku, are you going to use another quirk?? I’ve been speculating that he hasn’t actually unlocked the last two yet (since Two and Three didn’t exactly seem convinced when we last saw them), but maybe I’m about to be proven wrong

(ETA: well he clearly has Three’s obviously, but Two’s is still MIA, and that’s the one I am of course the most curious about. that’s the one we’re all curious about, let’s be real.)

OH SNAP???

AHHHH I’M HYPED LOL. ANOTHER SHINY NEW QUIRK LOL SHOULD I PUT UP THE USUAL DISCOURSE DISCLAIMER

(ETA: so yeah, after thinking on it, I’m not gonna say “please no Deku discourse on my blog” this week, but I probably will ignore any discourse that does come my way though, just because I don’t have much interest in getting involved in what would probably be a pretty repetitive discussion. like, I can just sum up my opinions (which is what they are) here instead. in fact here they are lol:

1) I like the SIXQUIRKS and I like seeing Deku be a badass.

2) I also don’t think Deku is too OP. more like he’s exactly as OP as he needs to be at the moment, given that we’re approaching the end of the series. I expect the other kids will also be pretty damn OP when we see them fight again. we’re just at that point now where they’re all badasses (as well they should be; they’ve grown a lot and they deserve it). it’s just that Deku’s the one we’re getting to see right now.

3) of course I miss Kacchan and the others, but for me this vibes much closer to the MVA arc where even though I missed them, I was still having a blast (as opposed to the dark days of the Basement arc where I was pretty much losing it lol). like, even though Kacchan’s my favorite, I still love Deku a lot and this arc has been amazing for him getting to shine on his own (for like the first time, really).

4) y’all know I love the OFA plot and I’ve never been shy about that lol. I like all of the Vestiges a lot. Banjou and his over the top personality; En and his “guy you thought would be serious and :| all the time but is actually hyper-animated and ALL OVER THE PLACE” energy; Shiro who actually is a :| sort of guy lol; Three who I still expect will be fleshed out in a more detailed flashback at some point; and of course Two, who, well. you know what I think about him lol. Bakuverse is still on the table and I’m still hyped. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we still have yet to see Two actually talk to Deku (as opposed to talking to the other Vestiges while Deku is distracted). did he lend him his power yet?? or is he still holding out?? either way it’s definitely going to be a Big Thing when it finally happens and I can’t wait to see it.

5) Lady Nagant is Everything and just because Deku grabbed her arm doesn’t mean the fight is over yet lol. Overhaul hasn’t come into play yet either. not to mention that even if the fight is over, the “where do we go from here” part still has me excited either way. her connection to Hawks and the HPSC is very intriguing and we’ve barely touched on that as of yet; she definitely has more of a role to play in this.

6) last but not least, I feel like every week the discussion is all about how much focus Deku’s getting, and how OP he is or isn’t, and OFA this and OFA that, but meanwhile I’m actually so invested in the character development here though?? the way Deku has distanced himself from everyone (except for the Vestiges, because of course they’re already dead so it’s not like they can die again lol)?? the way he’s pushing himself far too hard and we can see the shadows in and under his eyes, and the fact that he never smiles, and even All Might has remarked on how he isn’t taking care of himself at all?? the fact that he’s so single-mindedly obsessed with focused on stopping AFO?? the fact that he’s still the same sweet old Deku despite everything and was so kind to that fox lady with the umbrella, but there was also something so sad about that scene because it felt like a reminder of the type of hero that he wants to be, but that he’s not allowed to be right now?? because the stakes are too high and the world is falling apart?? and he feels like he’s the only one who can do something about it?? and that he has to be?? and that he is putting so much pressure on himself right now, and it’s absolutely too much pressure for any one person to bear, and I feel like no one is fucking talking about this lol goddammit.

anyway so yeah. I have feels about this, and every week that slow-burn angst is getting more and more intense behind the scenes, and I feel like it’s all going to hit a breaking point eventually. sooner rather than later. it really feels like a mirror of Katsuki’s post-Kamino arc. where all that angst was just churning below the surface for like twenty chapters and then it finally was like “okay it’s time” and it all came bursting out and we got the best five chapters of the fucking series (in my admittedly biased estimation lol).

basically, I know that most of fandom is billing this as either the “villain hunt” arc or the “solo Deku SIXQUIRKS fighting arc” or whatever. but for me, it’s always been and still is the Deku Angst arc lol. the cool fights are a sexy bonus (the worldbuilding less so because even though it’s interesting to see society at such a low point, it’s also very depressing and gets old pretty fast), but for me the thing that’s really keeping me engaged chapter after chapter is seeing Deku like we’ve never seen him before. seeing him all quiet and withdrawn and brooding and focused on AFO, AFO, AFO, and seeing that “he just doesn’t take himself into account” mentality taken to extremes. I am invested in that. I’m soaking up that angst each and every week, and I’m invested in seeing what comes of it. it’s a big picture thing. week to week this arc might just seem like a bunch of villain fight scenes, sure. but Deku’s emotional journey is the thread that’s going to carry this arc through from beginning to end, and for that I’m willing to be patient.

anyway that turned into a BIG OL’ RANT there but yeah! so those are my thoughts on the disk horse as it currently stands. and like I said, I’m open to discussion, but tbh I will probably just wind up repeating these same talking points endlessly so just a fair warning lol.)

anyway so Three says Deku has yet to use his quirk at ALL but now he’s trying to combine it with another quirk?? damn. also please check out En’s face here you guys

En launching a sneak attack up my favorite character list by the sheer power of his expressions alone. he really knows how to make the most of his screentime

OH DAMN DEKU

at this point the 3% from that hypothetical poll earlier are starting to feel prettttty damn smug, I’ll bet. well shit

what in the fuck

?? so like releasing his chi or whatnot?? isn’t that basically just like base OFA all over again?? also Deku did you seriously just apologize to Gran’s cape

update: Nagant has turned her eyeball into a gun

hm. hmmmmmmm. ...okay yep, still somehow sexy

anyway so she’s just floating up there building suspense, as one does. lord I sure hope she has good reflexes because something tells me she’s going to need them

OH SNAP HE THREW GRAN’S CAPE AS A DECOY WHAAAAT OKAY THAT’S SOME SMART SHIT DEKU

LOL SHE’S MAD NOW

JESUS CHRIST SHE JUST NEVER TAKES A GODDAMN BREAK FROM BEING AWESOME HUH

DEKU ARE YOU JUST THROWING EVERY DAMN THING IN YOUR INVENTORY

but without the cape and the hood how will you continue to look like an enigmatic badass. you really can’t. which means we might finally be moving on from the wandering nomad part of this arc, stay tuned

LOL YOU MANIAC

I hope he went full Kacchan with the dialogue there. his face sure looks like it lol. popped out of a building all mad fdskljlkj omg

well this was fun, shit. I still have basically no idea what Three’s quirk does though lol. like, can he use it to charge up objects with kinetic energy or something?? but then what was all of that talk about combining it with one of the other quirks?? or was that just because he was using Smokescreen at the same time??

(ETA: having seen and read an additional half-dozen explanations of Three’s quirk, I can say with confidence that I still have basically no idea what it is or does.)

anyway so!! Deku is a badasssssss but something tells me not to count Nagant out just yet even so. also I really enjoy seeing Deku flip out on people like he doesn’t have a fucking hole in his torso because it reminds me of A CERTAIN SOMEONE and I always love to see him channeling that feral energy; I feel like it’s been a while

anyways good luck to you both!! I truly wish that both of you could win. but if not, then maybe you can at least become friends instead. you have so much in common, you both can fly and have multiple quirks and you’re both badasses, and plus it would just be really funny to see the look on Hawks’s face lmao

#bnha 313 #midoriya izuku #lady nagant #bnha meta #deku meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

[neonlights92]

RUN: Chapter III

Jeon Jungkook hops from bed to bed, sleeping with as many beautiful, rich women as he can possibly find time for.  He’s young and attractive, with a silver tongue that gets him practically anything he wants.  So when his friend and boss, Kim Taehyung, tells him it’s time to settle down, Jungkook takes it pretty badly.  And when he finds out that the woman he’s destined to marry is, in fact, his little sister’s best friend, he is less than impressed.

You have spent your entire life trying to forget the way you feel about Jeon Jungkook.   So when you find out that Jungkook is to be your husband - and that he is anything but pleased about it - your world is thrown into chaos.  How can you survive a loveless marriage with the man you are hopelessly in love with?

WARNINGS: Language, some violence and smut.

A/N:ENJOY!!!!

Jungkook shone.  He really, really did. 

You watched him from across the room - the way he drew people in like a magnet.  He was stunning.

You knew he could tell you were watching him.  The way his eyes flickered to yours, and the side of his mouth pulled up slightly. 

Perhaps he enjoyed the power he had over you.  After all, you were his wife.  It was only normal that he wanted you to be attracted to him… Wasn’t it?

You couldn’t ponder on that thought.  Couldn’t let yourself think about Jungkook wanting you to love him.  It was too much - too overwhelming.

You turned from him quickly, grabbing a flute of champagne and downing it in almost one gulp.  You cringed at the unfamiliar taste - and the burn at back of your throat - but you needed a distraction.  From your husband, of all people.

Your life really was ridiculous. 

“Y/N?” 

You turned quickly, snapped out of your reverie by the sound of your name. 

Kim Namjoon stared back at you, a small smile on his face.

“Namjoon,” You relaxed a little, lips splitting into a smile of your own, “Hi.  How are you?”

“I’m fine,” He gestured at the champagne flute in your hands, “You’re going to snap that.”

You looked down noticing your grip was like a vice and gasped. 

“Shit.”  You loosened your fingers and blushed, “That would’ve been embarrassing.”

He gave you a sympathetic look, “Tough week?”

You groaned, setting the glass to one side and shaking your head, “Tough month.” 

Namjoon and you were fairly close.  The two of you had grown up together - along with Nayeon and Jungkook - and you felt you could genuinely trust him.  He was the only member of the Special Seven - apart from Jungkook of course - that you felt you had a real friendship with.

Namjoon was different to other made men.

He was intelligent and grounded.  He didn’t act on impulse or throw himself into situations he couldn’t handle. 

Namjoon was like the centre of gravity that Bangtan desperately needed.  

You liked that about him.

“It’s not your doting husband, is it?” He asked, raising a sarcastic brow.

You assumed he knew the truth about your marriage - even down to the fact Jungkook had no romantic feelings towards you.  The two of them were close - brothers, really - and you imagined they shared everything with one another. 

“It’s not his fault,” You answered, though you weren’t sure you totally believed it, “We were both… Forced into this.”

“But you love him.”  The words weren’t questioning - they were a statement.  Namjoon always was so intuitive.

“How did you - I  mean… What are you talking about?” He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Anybody with eyes can tell you love him Y/N - that you have loved him for years.” 

Something inside you twinged.

It wasn’t that you cared that other people knew.  You didn’t.  Love wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

It was just…. Well Jungkook knowing that other people knew.

Would he care?

And at this point… Did it even really matter?

“It’s not his fault he doesn’t feel the same way,” You said eventually, deciding it wasn’t even worth it to deny Namjoon’s accusations, “That’s just life.” “Jungkook is an idiot,” Namjoon wrinkled his nose, “He wouldn’t know love or commitment if it whacked him in the fucking face.  He’s spent his entire life dropping women’s panties and not sticking around to get to know them.  He thinks he’s incapable of anything more.”

You raised a brow, “I think he just doesn’t want anything more.”

“Bullshit,” Namjoon shook his head, “He doesn’t know what he wants.”

“And you do?” You replied, smiling a little at the way Namjoon’s brow furrowed into a frown. 

He seemed genuinely annoyed at your husband’s behaviour.

“I know he’s too much of a pussy to even open himself up to the idea of being with you for real,” He shrugged, hands reaching for his pockets, “Even told him so myself.” “Really?  And what did he say?  I’m sure that went down a treat…”

“Told me to fuck off of course.  But what else did I expect from the ever eloquent Jeon Jungkook?”  You laughed at that and so did Namjoon, shaking his head at his younger friend’s apparent stupidity, “Honestly.  I know Jungkook.  And I know that deep down inside, all he really wants is to be loved, Y/N.  And I think you could help him realise that.”

His words warmed you down to the tips of your toes.

“You think so?”

When he nodded, you felt something in your chest expand and lighten.

For the first time since you’d found out about your engagement, you felt a little better about things.

If Namjoon thought Jungkook had the capability to come around.. Then maybe things weren’t so bleak.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled warmly, “Thank you.  For speaking to me.  It really has helped.” “Just being honest,” He shrugged, “Thought you deserved to know my opinion, I guess.” 

“You always have been the smartest Bangtan boy.”

A throat cleared from somewhere to your life and you both turned to look, lips lifting unconsciously into a smile at the sight of your husband.  But Jungkook wasn’t smiling.  In fact, his mouth was pulled taut into a firm line.

And he was… Glaring at Namjoon.

“What are you two talking about?” Jungkook asked, hard eyes turning on you.

You felt a little intimidated by the way his gaze seemed to sear straight through you. 

“Just catching up, Jungkookie.”  You watched your husband cringe at the nickname that rolled off Namjoon's tongue, “Don’t keep her locked away for so long again.”

“I’ll try not to Joonie.”  His eyes were still pitch black, “You ready to go, Y/N?  I’m getting tired.”

You arched a brow at his odd behaviour. 

If you didn’t know any better you would think he was jealous.

But there was absolutely no way Jungkook would feel jealous or possessive over you… Was there?   

“Okay.”  You nodded swiftly and turned to Namjoon, “It was nice speaking to you Joon.  I hope we can catch up again soon.” His eyes were soft and he smiled, “You can count on that.”

You didn’t even realise Jungkook’s hand had slipped into yours until he was pulling you away from the crowd almost roughly.  Namjoon gave you a little wave and a knowing wink, and you shook your head, confused by your husband’s sudden shift in behaviour.

There was no way he was actually jealous, was there?

Not after knowing the way you felt about him.

Not after pushing you away himself and making it clear he wasn’t interested in a real marriage.

No.  You shook your head.

He must just be tired, like he’d said.

When the two of you made your way outside, you finally tugged your husband’s hand and forced him to look at you.

“What?” The word was sharp and angry.

You flinched, “Are you… Okay?”

“Just peachy.  Enjoyed your little chat with Namjoon?”

You followed him down the marble staircase, towards the garage.

“Wait.  Is that why you’re acting like this?”  You were speaking to Jungkook’s back - why was he walking so damn fast? - as you struggled to keep up, “Because I was talking to Namjoon?”

Your husband decided not to answer as he grabbed the keys wordlessly from the valet and continued making his way towards the car.  You trailed after him, feeling dejected and hurt by his sudden sourly attitude. 

What right did he have to be angry at you when all you had been doing was talking to a friend?

“Jungkook!” 

His name flew out of you angrily, just as the two of you reached the car.

He froze for a moment, and then turned, eyes hard like two glass balls of obsidian black.

You finally caught up with him, confused and hurt at the way he was treating you.  It made absolutely no sense.  

“Why are you mad at me?” “I’m not mad.” You rolled your eyes, “Obviously you are.  I’m not stupid.  So why are you mad?” “I’m not mad,” He answered unlocking the car and - despite his apparent fury - opening the passenger door for you, “I just find it sweet that you and Namjoon seem to get on so well.”

He slammed his own car door shut and your fingers twitched as you clicked in your seatbelt.

“You’re being stupid.” He turned to you again, his eyes wide, “Sorry what?  This coming from the woman that basically pissed on me in front of Jihyo to mark her territory?” Ok.  Now you were mad.

“How the fuck can you even compare the two?”  You couldn’t believe how irrational he was being, “She was literally all over you.” “So was Namjoon!”

“Oh my god.”  You tugged a hand through your hair, “You’re an idiot.” “I’m an idiot am I?  For finding it uncomfortable that my wife and my best friend spent the evening flirting right in front of me?” “Why do you even care?”  Your eyes were watering with angry tears but you bit them back, “You made it very clear that you aren’t interested in making this marriage work the way I want it to.  So what does it matter if I flirt with Namjoon?” You knew maybe your words weren’t the wisest.  Perhaps you should’ve assured him that the reality was all you’d spoken to Namjoon about was how much you loved your oblivious husband.

But he’d hurt you.  You sort of wanted to hurt him back.

“Right,” He seethed, “So it’s not alright for me to have an affair, but totally fine for you to?”

Your heart clenched.

“Oh my god.  Oh MY GOD.  Jungkook what the fuck?  We were talking about you for god’s sake.  Okay?!”  You pinched the bridge of your nose and felt the tears catch on the edge of your fingers, “What the hell?  Why would I ever cheat on you?  Not only am I completely in love with you but Namjoon is your best friend!  Jesus.”

The words were like lava spilling from your mouth, hardening everything they touched.

You couldn’t take it back.  It was all out there in the open.

Completely in love with you, you’d said.

Shit.

You squeezed your eyes shut, counting to ten.  Waiting for something.  Anything.

After a moment, your husband cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry.”

Your pulse jumped.

“What?” You opened your eyes and when you looked at Jungkook, he was already regarding you with something… Different.  It wasn’t the same affection he usually regarded you with.  It was… Deeper.  You didn’t know what it was.

But it sort of scared you.  In a good way.

“I said I’m sorry.  You’re right.  I don’t… I don’t know what came over me.”  He shook his head and tugged a hand through his hair, “I was...Jealous.”

The word fell like a stone between the two of you.

“What?”  Your voice was like the wind, almost, “Why would you be jealous?” He smiled - small and gently - and shrugged, “You’re my wife.  That means something, doesn’t it?  So I don’t - I wasn’t thinking straight.  I reacted badly.  Forgive me.”

Your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your chest. 

“So it was a possessive thing,” You answered, licking your bottom lip.  Your husband’s eyes flickered to your mouth, “You wanted to stake your claim on me.”

He shook his head, “No.  It was more than that.”  He clicked his tongue, “I was jealous that you weren’t with me.  He made you laugh.  I hated that.”

Now you were sure you must be dreaming. 

There was no way your husband was saying these things.

You tucked your lip between your teeth, “What does that mean?” He shook his head, eyes searching your face before they fell on your mouth again.

“I don’t know.”

He leaned in slightly and you held your breath.

“Are you going to kiss me?”  You whispered - nerves wracking through your body hotly.  

It felt like the world stood still for a moment.  And then Jungkook’s eyes softened like butter. “Yeah.  I am.  If that’s okay?”

You nodded stiffly. And then he kissed you.

Your body hummed to life at the contact eyes falling closed immediately as you allowed your husband to bundle you up in his arms.  It was uncomfortable of course - cramped in the front seat of the car - but Junkook picked you up and pulled you towards him, anyway.

You giggled as your dress caught on the gear shift, and your husband laughed, pressing his forward to yours, settling you into his lap.

“You look beautiful,” He told you honestly, eyes earnest, “Did I tell you that already?” You shook your head - breathless and hot all over.

Jungkook - your Jungkook - was kissing you.

He was kissing you.  And he seemed to be really enjoying himself.

“Well you do,” He said decidedly, pressing his lips to your collarbone as he pushed the strap of your dress further down your arm, “You look beautiful.” Your heart caught in your chest, and it felt almost like you were on fire.

Everything Jungkook’s lips touched tingled, and even though you knew this was actually happening, it still felt like some kind of vivid dream.

“Thank you,” You whispered breathlessly, not knowing what else to say.

Jungkook smiled softly at your words, his mouth moving towards your collarbone and pressing kisses against the skin there. 

“I love these freckles,” He groaned, tracing the dots with the tip of his nose, “So cute.” Your heart flipped and you sighed, “Thank you.” 

He pulled away a little and pressed his forward to yours, chuckling softly.

“That’s all you have to say?”

You felt dazed as you stared back at him, “Huh?”

“Thank you,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your brow, “It’s all you have to say, it seems.”

“I’m a little…” You cleared your throat and felt a shiver crawl up your spine as Jungkook tucked some hair behind your ear, “Lost for words.”

Your husband smiled - self-satisfied and a little proud, “C’mere.”

He leaned towards you and once again you were swept up by his kisses.  It felt as though you were spinning out of axis - but it was so good.  Nothing had ever come close to this and you told yourself that if this was it - if this was the only time Jungkook was going to kiss you - then you were going to make it count.

You brought your shaky hands up to his chest, intending to push his jacket off his shoulders, but losing your nerve along the way.  Instead you tightened your grip on the material of his blazer.  You felt him smirk against your lips.

“Want me to take it off?” He asked, after a moment, pulling away so he could search your face for an answer.

You expected him to be cocky - smug - but instead his gaze was just questioning.  Your heart twisted. 

“Yeah,” You nodded furiously, “Please.”

He smiled again, and did as you’d told him to, removing the jacket and throwing it somewhere to your left.  You continued kissing him with fervor - making up for your lack of experience with enthusiasm - and after a while you felt his lips venture towards your throat… 

And then lower to the valley of your breasts.

And - for some reason unbeknownst to you - you froze.

Jungkook took that as a cue to stop and pulled away, a dark brow arched.

“Sorry.”  His hair was all out of place, “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to-”

“No, I liked it.”  You assured him, feeling your heartbeat pulling out of your chest, “I just… This is my first time doing anything like…. This.”

“Right.”  He still seemed unconvinced.

“But I’m enjoying myself.  I was enjoying myself.  All of it.” 

Jungkook’s eyes were warmer than you’d ever seen them.  He pushed your hair out of your face and bit his bottom lip.

“We should probably stop anyway.”  

Your heart fell. 

“Oh.”

“We’re in the front seat of a car - anybody could walk by,” He added on, eyes following your expression carefully, “Not exactly a good idea.”

“Okay,” You nodded, suddenly realising the position you were in.

Jungkook had pushed the straps of your dress down your arm - exposing more of your cleavage than you probably were comfortable showing in public - your hair was a mess, your lips were puffy and your make up was probably all smudged.

You made to climb off your husband’s lap, before Jungkook grabbed the back of your head gently.  He forced you to look at him.

“I was enjoying myself, too.  For the record.”

And then he kissed you again, once, soundly - on the mouth.

God. 

You really did love him.

//

The days after your tryst in the car were filled with uncertainty.

Jungkook had driven the both of you home in almost complete silence - save for the murmuring of the radio - and when you climbed into bed that night, the only thing he offered you was an arm to cuddle into.

You’d taken it of course - gladly - and every night since then the two of you moved towards one another as soon as the bedside lamp clicked off.

But it wasn’t enough for you.

And apart from night time snuggling - nothing much had changed about your relationship.

But after having felt Jungkook’s lips on your own - felt the way his kisses seared straight through you - you wanted that feeling again.  And despite what he’d said about enjoying himself… You wondered if maybe that was just to spare your feelings.

Perhaps he’d realised all at once how little he was attracted to you.

Maybe that’s why he hadn’t made a move since.

The thought caused your throat to clog up, and your heart to clench, so you pushed it all back down, trying not to think about it.

Instead you found another pet project - this one a pair of dark blue jeans that Jungkook had ripped a hole through.  You’d heard him complaining to his butler, Minhyuk, about how they were his favourite pair, and you wanted to fix them for him.

You sat in the same armchair you always did - tucked into the corner of the master bedroom - and listened to the radio mumbling gently in the background.  It was some stupid cheesy love song, but still the lyrics caused the same feelings you tried so very hard to push back down, to bubble up.

A figure in the doorway paused your actions and you looked up.

It was your husband.  His eyes were unreadable.

“Jungkook,” You smiled softly, “Hi.”

You couldn’t hide your content at seeing him - could never hide how happy he made you - and you resigned yourself to stop trying.

He didn’t say a word.  Instead he walked over to you carefully and fingered the material of the jeans.

“Oh.”  You laughed gently, “I just heard you talking about them the other day.  Thought I could pull my weight around here.”

Your movements had stopped, but Jungkook’s big hand came to rest over your own.

He bent down so that his face was level with yours.

“You didn’t have to do that.”  His eyes were like two balls of fire now, melting you from the inside out.

You felt your bottom lip tremble, “I know.”

And then his mouth was on yours.  He took the jeans out of your hand and set them to one side, grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up as if you weighed nothing at all.

You giggled a little, and when Jungkook pulled away to watch you laugh, he couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out.

“You’re so…”  He didn’t finish the sentence, instead leading you over to the bed and laying you down.

His eyes were questioning as he played with the hem of your t-shirt, and without a second thought you lifted your arms, letting him pull it over your head.  It was embarrassing of course.

The first time Jungkook would see you in underwear and you were wearing the most unflattering beige bra.  But he didn’t seem to mind.

He helped you unhook the bra, and when your hands came to cover your breasts, he stopped you.

“Let me see them.  Please.”  His eyes were hot and you felt like you were suffocating almost.

You nodded wordlessly and pulled your arms down, watching as Jungkook took in your naked torso.  

“Fuck.  So beautiful.”  He whispered, leaning down and pressing his mouth against your breasts. 

You arched against him, feeling as though you were going to explode just from that one touch, and Jungkook smiled, “So sensitive, too.”

His lips moved to your nipple, and he sucked gently, watching you attentively.  His body was completely taut - waiting for your reactions - and when you moaned wantonly he smirked.

“Fuck,” You whispered and your husband clicked his tongue teasingly.

“Such profanity.”  He smirked and tugged your trousers down slowly, “Guess we’ll have to clean your mouth out with soap, Angel.” The nickname was like a surge of warmth, straight to your core.  He’d barely touched you and already you were panting like you could no longer take it.

“Please Jungkook,” You begged, not even knowing what you were begging for, “Please.” “Alright, shhh, shhh.  I’ll give you what you want baby,” His lips played with the hem of your panties, and after a moment he pulled those down too, “C’mere.” And then his mouth was on you and it felt like time itself had stood still.  You arched your back almost completely off the bed - and if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s steadying hands on your thighs you might have melted to the ground right then.

He licked at you diligently, and you found yourself winding tighter and tighter like a coil about to break from the pressure.

“Oh god… Oh god…”

His eyes bore straight through yours, and you felt like you might pass out from the intensity.  

“That’s it,” He whispered, removing his mouth and using his hands instead, “Cum for me Angel.”

And finally, a wave of indescribable pleasure washed over you.  It was so strong you thought you might shatter into a thousand pieces.

Jungkook coaxed you through your climax, and when you finally came down from your high - your bones like jelly - he climbed up your body and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“A thank you,” He smiled boyishly, “For the jeans.”

Your eyes were round and wide as you stared up at him, “But don’t you want-” 

“Nope.  Don’t need it.”

Jungkook pulled you under the covers, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing you towards his chest. 

“But  Jungkook-”

“Sleep Angel.”  A soft kiss was pressed to your forehead, “We’ve got plenty of time for everything else.”

And in that heart-wrenching moment you realised that Jeon Jungkook not only owned your heart - he owned your body, mind and soul too.

“Okay,” You whispered, pressing a kiss against the firm plane of his chest, “Goodnight.” 

That night, you slept like a baby.

//

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